


The Four Times Daryl Dixon Fed Bethany Greene

by PixieShips



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, POV Beth Greene, Slow Burn, prison era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24328444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieShips/pseuds/PixieShips
Summary: Post Woodbury but Pre-Governor Prison EraWalkers were supposed to be the main threat to her survival but as life never goes according to plan Beth Greene finds herself setting off a chain reaction between herself and one Daryl Dixon. Attempting to fade into the back ground of the prisons' everyday workings, Beth has no way of knowing it could lead to her death. When the run team stocks the pantry off the supplies from a local bar it does just that. It started innocently enough of course... because no one would starve around Daryl Dixon. He wouldn't allow it.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Beth Greene, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene, Judith Grimes & Everyone, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee
Comments: 115
Kudos: 154





	1. Well Nuts...

The fact that Bethany Greene’s allergy hadn’t been a concern for nearly six months would be to blame for the current emergency. At least that was the excuse she would give anyone that accused her of not being careful. It hadn’t come up, which was the most startling realization of all. Not even in the winter she’d turned eighteen before they made the prison home had her allergy given her more than a few nights of hunger. They ate everything they had found then and even though they still did, she’d been more careful then. She always gave the nuts they scavenged to Maggie or her father. Neither would remember until she’d hand her dinner to them that winter, and perhaps that mentality is what had her forgetting to check herself. There was always so much more to worry about these days and their sheepish apologizes for her empty stomach would always bring a reassuring smile to her lips. They had finally made a safe, or at least as safe as possible, home in the prison and there was a squirming four-month-old baby in her lap. She also hadn’t been party to the latest run haul, a bar that had held nearly a year’s worth of peanuts for its dead patrons that now clogged up the prison pantry. That was when she took the three distracted bites that would change her life. 

The itching began slowly and if Beth hadn’t been paying attention to the wailing and fussing infant in her arms, she knew she’d have known what was happening before she absently reached up to scratch the underside of her jaw. Instead it was the tightening of her chest that made her jerk her attention from trying to airplane the nearly expired baby food into the young girls’ lips. It was pushing it to feed her solid food this early but they really didn’t have a choice. Her lips itched as she rolled them between her teeth, and a burning in her lungs let her know without a doubt something was very wrong.

“Maggie.” She gasped out, her eyes going first to the bowl of green soup Carol had given her, then to the woman beside her. Catching Carol’s arm with a wild dart of her hand with no actual thought Beth shoved the baby into the woman’s startled grasp. The bowl of soup she’d been holding landed on the floor with a distinct crash as she could only accept the baby. Beth hit her feet in the process, cutting off Carol’s started question.

“’re you okay?” Maggie’s concern met her ears before all Beth could do was knock her bowl in her sister’s general direction and remind herself to stay calm. Words were already impossible it seemed as she tried to answer the two women. She tried to get more than a gasp and whimper from her lungs but it seemed they refused. Fire rose from her sternum to lick at the underside of her jaw. She found her hands clawing at her chest, willing her sister to know since she could do little more than gasp for air. But it was her father that came to her rescue blessedly.

“Were there nuts in the soup?” His calm but frightened baritone drifted to her ears even as Maggie’s arms snaked around her waist unhelpfully. The panic of her sister’s continued pleas for her voice did not help as all her vocal cords seized in pain. Beth missed Carol’s answer and Judith’s continued screaming as she grabbed at the hands around her, the panic of her situation beginning to overwhelm her. It seemed the only thought she could make out was that she needed air and now. Her breaths began to become erratic and she knew there was little she could do. She felt her mind go blank, even as her hands continued desperately clawing at her sister’s arms. 

“Glen, run to the infirmary. There’s a’ EpiPen in the store room. Grab as much Benadryl as you can carry!” Herschel directed to the now on edge dinning room, every occupant drawn to the danger even if there was nothing they could do. 

“I…don’t know what that looks like.” Glen admitted, none of the calm Herschel had in his voice. 

“Maggie, go. Now.” Herschel commanded, the scrapping of his artificial leg echoing in the silence as he made his way from one daughter to the next. Beth nearly fell forward as Maggie’s arms left her, but as her knees shook and her throat continued to close, Beth turned her panic to the strong arms of the resident recluse that cushioned her into his left shoulder. Her head meet the hard plans of his vest with a distinct thud as her nails resumed their desperate search for a strong and steady presence against the panic. A conversation went on around her that her ears could not discern as all she could do was try to gasp around the swelling cutting off her air and hang onto Daryl for dear life.

“Sorry ‘bout this Girl.” He muttered as one of his arms locked around her waist as if to cut her in half and she found her head being pulled back by her sweat laden ponytail. She could make out spots in her vision as she begun to shake, her legs unable to hold her weight as her muscles screamed for the oxygen they were used to. So consumed with panic and her fight to breath she didn’t even feel as her father ripped her jaw from its locked position. The effort considerable her ears refused to pick up more than her own heartbeat and the tightening of her fingers. There were kind and reassuring words surrounding her head but it seemed her ears had turned themselves off.

“Normally not a good idea, but…” Herschel muttered even as he nodded his head to Daryl and Beth found a new and sudden pain grabbing her attention as two calloused fingers jabbed the back of her throat. The result was immediate and her hands left Daryl’s biceps to latch onto the iron of Daryl’s lower arm, unaware she’d even found her fingers fisting in his shirt sleeves. Her stomach revolted as she collapsed over his arm, but to his credit he did not let her fall. She didn’t feel the hand of her father rubbing her back as the heaving begun or the death grip of Daryl’s fingers around her hip as she convulsed forward. One of them was holding her ponytail but as her body twitched in agony, she couldn’t determine who. It didn’t feel physically possible to burn so thoroughly as a tug of war began between her stomach and her throat. Neither seemed willing to give to the other before she found her jaw opening. 

Though even as the water and three sips of soup did come up the effort took everything in her. If nothing else the choking she seemed to do now had a purpose. But even as her meager days rations finally made its way past the swelling of her esophagus nothing could get oxygen into her lungs. If anything, the action seemed to leave her on the verge of passing out. The resulting war of her organs left her cramping, a thick mucus of bile all that was able to escape her blue tinted lips at the heaves. It was Daryl that wiped her mouth, she knew that but little else made its way past the hurried beat of her heart. Her vision began to swim as the cramping of her stomach lost to the swelling of her throat. As the grey walls of the prison blurred in and out there was little she could do but try desperately to focus on the callouses catching softly on her sweaty forehead. The huffing and screaming of Maggie and Glen did not register to her. In fact, she barely felt the stab of the needle her father shoved into the denim of her shaking leg. Her only source of strength was Daryl’s continued vice grip and she lost feeling in the fingers she had digging into his skin. She’d have fallen on her face otherwise and she was distinctly aware of that when a small gasp of air finally made its way past her cotton mouth.

“Set ‘er down.” Herschel directed, batting the sweaty wisps of hair from her face as Daryl gently placed her onto the table top behind her. She shook her head as her heart raged in her ears at the unsteadiness in her own movements. But it seemed he either understood or knew she would fall over as the man hefted himself up to sit beside her, tucking her into his side as he did with barely a sound.

“Easy Doodlebug.” Herschel coaxed as her eyes finally closed, but it was the longest minute of her life as she desperately clung to the tiny gasps of air her body finally allowed her. It was sound that returned to her first. It seemed she’d caused quite a bit of chaos as both Glen and Maggie were bent forward gasping for air themselves. Carol and Carl were trying to sooth Judith as the baby girl screamed and cried, no doubt simply because of the tension in the air. Opening her eyes on a particularly full gasp of air, Beth found herself once more reaching for something solid to hold onto. Her left calf was twitching the worst of her muscles. But she found as her left hand closed around the leather of Daryl’s vest, she could fully appreciate being alive to feel it. He was blessedly warm against the cold of the panic. 

“Beth?” Herschel broke the loaded silence first, her lungs screaming muted only by the chill of the evening air and the gentle warmth of Daryl’s arm around her shoulders.

“Fast…” She managed to croak out, her unoccupied right-hand waving toward her chest absently at the racing of her heart, but it seemed her voice was all it took for everyone to let out a collective breath. She felt Daryl’s arm sag but to her gratitude he did not let her go. She watched as Maggie landed ungracefully on the floor, her breathing still haggard as Glen joined her not a second later. 

“It’s just th’ medicine. Try ‘n stay calm, ‘t’s gonna be a’right.” Her father’s gentle, but hitching, voice chased away Judith’s screams. “Drink this.” Herschel tried but Beth shook her head as hard as she was able, air the only thing she wanted. “It’s gonna wear off, Beth. You gotta sweetheart.” He continued; the plastic hard against her bottom lip even as she found herself punishing the leather beneath her fingers in protest. To her credit after several more desperate gulps of air, and as her nose began to tingle that it might finally work, she let him tilt the water to her lips. The grit of medicine within the liquid did nothing for the horrible taste in her mouth or the cotton quality of her breath but she swallowed. She found herself leaning more fully into the warmth of Daryl when her stomach protested, attempting to copy his deep and even breath. It was perhaps ten minutes before she managed the six sips her father wanted but she was rather proud of herself for managing it. There was a stinging in her eyes from the tears she hadn’t known were flowing down her cheeks since she’d thrust Judith at Carol. Her leg was still twitching and her head continued to beat in time to her abused heart but ten minutes later she knew she’d live. 

“I’m sorry.” She croaked out; her voice hoarse from the abuse. She wasn’t quite sure who she was apologizing to or for but even still she felt it needed to be said.

“Nah, girl. You good.” Daryl shrugged, her left shoulder absorbing the motion even as she found herself to tired to further apologize for the disgusting mess at her feet or the sweat matting her forehead. She let her head fall heavy onto his shoulder with his forgiveness even as she slowly begun to realize he was still hugging her to him. She wondered briefly if he was always so calm as she continued mimicking his breathing. It would explain how he always managed to survive things no one else would have.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.” Herschel suggested even as he placed the cup against her lips once more. She once more wasn’t sure then if she was shaking her head against the gritty paste or the thought of supporting her own weight. It seemed it didn’t matter as the arm around her shoulders pulled her forward stiffly. Her feet touched the ground as she painfully swallowed once more. She found herself able to throw them a reassuring smile as a sigh escaped her abused lungs. Though as soon as it was out, she nearly lost the breath from her lungs once more. Her arms went up automatically around Daryl’s neck as he bent over her to scoop her knees in the crook of his left arm. She found her eyes closing, her grip not as tight as she knew it should be to help him bare her weight this fully. It didn’t seem to make a difference to the man that hauled hundreds of pounds of deer regularly. Even as he ascended the stairs, she found she could do little to help him but turn her nose into the leather cushioning her cheek. She distantly wondered what Daryl Dixon actually smelled like, as she could smell nothing but her stomach even still. It was then the adrenaline began to wain from her system. Her chest clenched in soreness, even as every step Daryl took prompted a calm breath into her abused rib cage. 

“Thank you.” She managed, the sedation of the Benadryl hitting her far to quickly to be normal but as he lowered her into her bunk, she found her eyes closing once more. She was asleep before his hands fully left her, a gentle squeeze of her shoulder the last thing she registered.

***  
Waking had been mortifying. Her father and sister had camped out on the floor of her already to small bunk the entire night. She’d had to reassure them for hours she was alright before they let her so much as put her feet on the floor. At which point Rick had made it a point to ask everyone about allergies in front of the entire prison save the hunter she’d been trying to find all morning. She could still feel her cheeks heat under the lukewarm stream water cascading over her head. She still wanted to find the person that had told Rick and wring their neck. As the only one effected she felt particularly useless in that moment. The entire prison had stared at her and all she could do was shrug. Of course, she understood what he was trying to do. No one wanted a repeat of yesterday. Least of all her as her ribs refused to fully expand for her lungs even now twenty-four hours later. That did not stop the embarrassment that had her fleeing to the showers. She’d thought at least one of the Woodbury folks would have an allergy but of course she was the only one. If that hadn’t been enough, Carol’s apologizes were non-stop even as Beth had reassured her for nearly an hour that the woman couldn’t have known. 

With a sigh Beth leant her head against the slick tile, the grime of her ordeal leaving her body as the memory replayed itself for her mind. Even the memory of struggling to breath was enough to hitch her breath. The rest was a bit of a blur if she was honest. It was the pain that she knew she’d remember this time though. She’d had one other episode in her life and at five years old she’d been to young to remember more than riding in the ambulance and getting jello for days. She really wished they had some Jello now because even the water she opened her mouth to catch burned down her throat as she imagined alcohol might. There were only a few other vague sensations she could remember about this time. Her father’s voice as he coaxed her to drink. The slick and even feel of Daryl’s vest in her fist. Daryl’s soft, yet gruff accepting of her apology. The strength in Daryl’s arms…a shiver worked its way down her spine as the phantom weight of his arm came back around her shoulders.  
She was hard pressed to remember the last time Daryl had actually touched her. It wasn’t as though she spent hours contemplating the feel of his callouses or how his muscles had been taut and stressed under her hands…no she reassured herself. It was just because he wasn’t into touching. Her hugging him after Zach had been the last time, she couldn’t remember seeing him touch any of them for that matter. And then for her to be so completely swallowed by him in her deepest moments of panic. The shiver working up her spine was sobered quickly at the thought.

She’d nearly died but that was nothing new these days. In fact, as her eyes caught sight of the scar on her left wrist, she reminded herself it was an everyday struggle. Judith’s gurgle of a laugh caught her attention from her own thoughts. Truly if Judith hadn’t needed her, she didn’t know where she’d be. The baby banged her favorite toy, a plastic spoon, against the quilt beneath her. The pure enjoyment the young girl had at the simplest things brought a small smile to the surface as she battled her depression. The dull thud of the concrete beneath the cushioning of the fabric seemed to fascinate the youngest Grimes as Beth finished scrubbing the dried sweat from her skin. She scrubbed particularly hard at the tear stains on her cheeks from both yesterday and just now. She tried to keep her eyes on Judith as she reached for her tooth brush, the smile on her lips still chasing away her insecurities. She might be a liability to the prison, but at least she wasn’t one to Judith. No, she was the world to the youngest Grimes. She could do no wrong and Beth let that coat her sore heart. Drying and dressing quickly, she scooped up the squirming girl with a tickling kiss. With a practiced ease Carl had yet to master she dodged the spoon, tickling it out of the baby’s hands before she faced the music of the rest of the day. 

Her spoon firmly in Beth’s back pocket Judith took to slapping the end of her wet hair which Beth gently pelted her with as she walked back toward her room. She bounced the would-be toddler with each step and welcomed the echoing laughter on the darkening prison walls. Sasha was making dinner and the thought more than the smell had her stomach clenching as breakfast had. In fact, the twisting was so painful and sudden she had to turn her face away from Judith to stamp out the nausea that crept with it. She’d made her way up the stairs, a jar of baby food in one hand before she even realized she’d done it. Making the decision to skip dinner, as she had both breakfast and lunch, wasn’t perhaps her best choice but she knew she could get away with it for at least one night. Her father and sister would get on her, but maybe they would be to tired to do so more than halfheartedly.

“Beth.” A gentle tug of the elbow cradling Judith turned her before she reached her bunk. But it wasn’t Maggie or her father to her surprise.

“Hi.” There was an awkward tension about his shoulders but Beth found the smile she’d had for Judith lingering for Daryl. Twice in two days, she could get used to the casual contact as his thumb slipped in a halfhearted circle. Though just as soon as she registered the contact his hand left her elbow, raising to the baby’s cheek with a teasing flick of her nose. Judith gurgled a laugh for him, her hands slapping down on Beth’s shoulder just enough to know Judith was growing stronger. 

“You good?” He asked and even as his eyes did not leave Judith, she knew with a sigh he meant her.

“I’m good. Thank you for…you know everything…” Beth found herself trailing off. Her embarrassment seemed to seep back into the shrug of her shoulders toward the railing and the gentle hum of noise beneath. Judith was oblivious to the awkward silence they fell into as Daryl’s eyes left the young girl to weigh the truth of her words. She was okay. She knew she’d been saying it all day though. Her lungs, throat, and her chest hurt. There was a sting in her thigh from the needle now bruising, but she really was okay. It seemed he agreed when he gently pulled his finger away from Judith.

“What’nt nothin’” He shrugged back, rocking back and forth a short moment before she saw his head shake and a sigh leave his lips. It was then she noticed the plastic bag in his right hand, rolled into a cylinder shape. She prayed he didn’t notice when her breath hitched at the gentle pull of her belt loop. Truly her heart could not handle being pulled close to Daryl Dixon. She could still feel the heat of his arms for peat’s sake. Her poor, exhausted heart couldn’t take skipping a beat again. It was all she could do to stamp the heat of her cheeks down as the bag in his hand sank into her left pocket, sticking out against the hand that still held Judith’s dinner. She let her eyes follow his hands as his finger uncurled from her belt loop, her stomach flipping for an entirely different reason than earlier. It was not until that moment that she realized just what had actually happened. Daryl Dixon had carried her to bed…the realization was to much for her fight against her blush.

“Asskicker still whackin’ people?” His breathy laugh seemed to break the staring she was unknowingly doing at his hands.

“Everyon’ but me.” She bragged, turning her hips to show him the white plastic sticking up out of her back pocket. She found her earlier smile returning at the small one she received in his amusement. Her cheeks were still tinged pink but she prayed he would take it for embarrassment over yesterday and not the coiling of her stomach.

“’Atta girl.” He joked, the hair that had fallen into his eyes shaking wildly as he smirked his way back down the stairs without another word. She let her eyes linger on the way his hands glided down the rail before she ducked her head into her bunk. Whatever was now in her pocket was hard to ignore. Her curiosity had her putting Judith down on her bunk, the jar of baby food finding the top of the office door she used for a desk. The thin grey plastic bag unrolled with a crinkle beneath her fingers but Beth couldn’t make out what was in it before she turned it over beside the baby food. She was distracted by a laugh from the lower level, but only for the briefest of moments. 

She knew the jerky in front of her was squirrel only because it was one of the mainstays of their diet these days but she was a bit confused. It took way too much time to cook a squirrel to jerky. She and Carol often traded off standing over the fire when they attempted to make any kind of jerky. It took hours and hours of careful rotating over low heat to accomplish such a thing these days. When had he had the time to make...? He’d had to have left right after he put her to bed for this. Then it made sense that she hadn’t seen him all day. She’d attempted to find him to thank him when she woke up but he’d been gone. A soft fondness tugged at her soul as she turned to make sure Judith wasn’t scooting toward the edge of her bed. Her stomach gave a soft grumble but she found herself snapping off a chunk of meat despite it. After all, Daryl Dixon had spent so much time to make sure she had something to eat the least she could do was eat it and with glee. Maybe her day wasn’t as bad as she first thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michonne is out hunting the Governor and Rick has guard duty if anyone was wondering. Sasha and Tyreese are on the fence. Also please never attempt to induce vomiting in anyone having an allergic reaction or choking. Herschel did it only because it is literally the end of the world and there is no hospital or ambulance to call. If you ever find yourself in this situation epi-pens go through clothing and call emergency services right away. A hospital trip is mandatory even if they seem better.


	2. Oh To Be A Parent At The End Of The World

How had no one else noticed this? How had she not noticed this until now?! Daryl Dixon was touching her…and no one seemed to notice!? Once could be explained. Twice even. But there was absolutely no reason for him to gently squeeze her shoulder on his way out of what was now the dining area for guard duty. None what so ever. And it wasn’t just that. The gentle glide of his hand on the small of her back as she passed him in the kitchen this morning, in addition to the gentle squeezes of his fingers on her arms, or her shoulders when either left any other room. It had been seven days since her lungs had betrayed her and yet where everyone else had gone back to normal…Daryl was touching her! 

She couldn’t blame them for not noticing as it had taken her a few times to see a trend herself. But when his hand had found her lower back as he passed her on the balcony outside her bunk last night it was everything she could do, not to hold her breath.

Judith was refusing to sleep again, which meant Rick had handed her off in the middle of the night. He always apologized but since he was responsible for the prison, she couldn’t begrudge him…most nights. Last night as she hushed the baby, she’d wanted to club the girl’s father over the head. She’d even debated waking up Carl or Carol to take the girl when after two hours Judith continued to cry. She couldn’t bring herself to do it though, mostly because she reminded herself, they all had jobs to do. No, that night Judith had been particularly fussy and no amount of bouncing or walking would cut it. Not even singing to the young girl had worked. Normally she could get the girl to sleep with her humming or the half of a country song she remembered. Judith had seriously tested her patience.

She’d tried to apologize the minute she saw Daryl emerge from his bunk as the first rays of light worked past the bars. She’d also tried not to pace in front of his bunk since she knew, like Rick, he had a lot to do and needed his sleep. She knew on nights like this though that she tended to pace in front of his sleeping quarters more often than anyone else’s since he was at the very end of the hall. In order to survive in their months on the road they had all become the lightest of sleepers and a bad night for her could quickly turn into a bad night for all of A block. She didn’t want to admit that she also did it because Daryl never said anything when all of A block grumbled. Still she had tried to stay in the entrance hallway that led to the dining area but it had just been to cold. The seasons were starting to change and it had everyone on edge. She didn’t dare take a screaming Judith outside in the dead of night. Maggie was on guard duty last night but even still she didn’t want to draw more walkers when the fence cleanup ended at sundown. The last thing they needed was someone to get bit through the fence because they couldn’t see and Judith had drawn to many walkers to handle.

She’d been flush with guilt at waking him in her inability to silence the youngest Grimes. She highly suspected the young girl was about to start teething but it was a horrifying thought she didn’t want to voice. Though even as she’d opened her mouth to say just that…Daryl’s hand had landed on the small of her back and he’d shaken his head. She still didn’t understand how something so simple had been so…all consuming. She’d felt so small compared to the width of his hand and despite herself she’d felt the stress in her shoulders relax just a bit. She’d expected him to say something but instead he leaned over to gently kiss Judith’s cheek, red from her screaming tantrum. His ear could have brushed her nose if she leaned forward even an inch and it had been extremely tempting. She’d been unable to look him straight in the eye when he sighed, mostly because she still felt guilty but also because of that stray thought. He still didn’t say anything as she felt a gentle pat on her sore back and then he was gone as if nothing had happened…Until he’d just patted her shoulder on his way out the door in the afternoon sun. It was casual contact and she knew that but she found her eyes following the wings on his back out the door. Daryl didn’t do casual contact. This wasn’t her sister or father, or even Carol for that matter. Her stomach was still flipping in a way she wasn’t sure was quite a good thing but she didn’t want it to stop even now. 

Finishing her lunch, she found herself yawning, earning a tired and meaningful look from her father over his own bowl. She nodded without being told to go to bed, but she stalled when her eyes raked over her father’s companion. This new doctor was talking excitedly with complicated terms she didn’t understand, but it seemed her father did. Steeling her shoulders, she shook her head. Judith had finally worn herself out and her arm was about to give out as she didn’t dare put the baby down since her head was cushioned on Beth’s left shoulder. She hadn’t dared put the girl down in roughly twelve hours. She reminded herself that both Rick and Daryl would not put them in danger and that no matter who they brought back the doors of A block locked them all out at night. They were a family and that came first and always would. She accepted Carol’s affectionate smile as she slowly slipped the young girl from her hip. Her forearm twitched and her shoulder seized in objection, but going as slowly as possible was her sole priority. Both were very aware Judith could start screaming again but when she didn’t both women released a breath. 

“I’ll call you for dinner.” Carol whispered, though Beth didn’t know why she bothered when her dad and the new doctor were not being exactly quiet. 

Another yawn escaped her as she made her way up the stairs. Maggie was snoring in the bunk next to hers and Beth wondered if she even knew she still did that. It was a comforting sound, especially because she couldn’t hear Glen’s this afternoon which meant she wasn’t in danger of hearing something else. She had no doubt the pair thought they were quiet and she found a blush coloring her cheeks at what she’d tried to bleach from her ears not two days ago. No, all of A block knew what was going on. Even as she tilted the privacy sheet from her sister’s door to check on her, she couldn’t help but smile as the light caught her engagement ring. Those two were meant for each other but of course that was not for her to talk about. Maggie still considered her a child as far as she was concerned. That thought wiped her earlier excitement over Daryl’s affection from her. There were to many variables when she thought about Daryl and she definitely did not need to be thinking about how his hand would have felt just a little lower on her back. She needed to sleep before she let the depression of reality back in. She tried to reassure herself that even if half the prison still thought her a child, that Daryl had never treated her like it. So, what if she enjoyed staring at his hands or the surprisingly gentle way, he’d been touching her. No, she didn’t feel like convincing anyone she wasn’t still that seventeen-year-old on the farm. The long night was souring her mood and she knew it as she flopped down onto the flower covered quilt Maggie had put on her bunk a few weeks ago. 

However, no amount of quiet contemplation on the warmth of Daryl’s fingers could sooth her aching shoulders as, once again, she was rocking Judith when the sun set. Four hours of sleep had her already on edge but as Judith cried it was all she could do not to jump out of her skin. Every nerve ending across her body was screaming in time with the baby. All she wanted was to make whatever had the girls screaming, better. That was it. Judith was her entire world and she nearly broke down crying herself. The only thing holding her together as she walked back and forth was her desperation for Judith to be alright. She’d not wanted a bottle or food. She’d not needed fresh clothes. She hadn’t even stopped when Beth held her as tight as she could and rocked back and forth an hour. How could anyone scream so hard without passing out? Beth found she couldn’t even think anymore. All she could do was cling to Judith and feel useless. Each new cry broke her heart with increasingly violent cleaves.

“Please, Judy.” She found herself begging in a whispered huff. Sliding down the cold and dark concrete at the end of the hall was little relief as Judith’s red-faced wailing continued. Her feet were aching as she hadn’t stopped moving in at least four hours. Beth found her knees clacking painfully as she seated the baby in her lap and off the numb hip that bore Judith’s weight. She’d lost track of what time it had been when Carol woke her to the tantrum that was consuming her entire being. Everyone would be awake in A block tonight. She was sure of it, but she could still feel the worried eyes of Rick as he’d left for guard duty. He trusted his daughter to her and there was little she seemed able to do for the young girl. Once more she wondered if she should take Judith to him. Kicking her leg to try and get some feeling back into her hip she sighed in frustration when it caught in Daryl’s open curtain. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about keeping him up tonight. He might be the only one to get some sleep tonight, which was a sarcastic thought given he was probably beyond the fence. She could only guess since he hadn’t come back inside. But even as she wanted to let her dark adjusted eyes wander into his quiet sanctuary in desperation Judith continued to flail. 

“Beth.” The quiet echo of her father’s artificial leg was the only other sound to be had outside Judith’s continued wails.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. She just won’t stop.” An exhausted tear slipped from her eyes without her permission. It had to be at least four in the morning. The despair of her uselessness must have been evident as he leaned against the rail to regard her.

“It’s fine, baby. Here.” Herschel coaxed, a calm albeit tired patience soothing her frayed nerves at his outstretched hands.

“I tried everything; she just won’t stop.” She admitted, half of the bottle she’d tried what felt like an eternity ago still covering her right shoulder. Shifting Judy higher tugged at her tired muscles, but she managed to put her knee to the ground to lift them both off the ground. Judith rewarded her with a balled fist to her jawline but Beth shook it off, pulling the end of her ponytail out of the youngest Grimes other fist. 

She watched by the moonlight as her father took Judith with a practiced ease and put the back of his hand to the young girl’s forehead. She tiredly envied everything about the ease with which her father smoothed Judith’s hair and rocked her with gentle reassurance. Her every nerve was grated from Judith’s endless screaming and a worry that had overtaken her heart. Everything in her told her that something was wrong. It couldn’t be that she just couldn’t get the baby to sleep, even if it was. There was no reason for Judith to be screaming herself into exhaustion. But she warred with herself that maybe it was in her head. She had limited experience with babies. She’d held Judith everyday for months, but what did she actually know about raising a child? She’d been contemplating running out to Rick for hours now. This was his daughter and she just knew he’d tell her what she couldn’t figure out. She’d wanted to wake her father as well, but her insecurities had warred with her. This was her job and she was supposed to handle this. If she couldn’t handle a screaming baby, what could she do for her family? But it was more than that. She wanted to be able to handle this on her own. Every mother she’d ever heard talked about being up nights and nights with their kids. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t do the same more than twice in a row? She wanted so badly to tuck herself into the safety of her father’s arms. Instead she kept her eyes on Judith, her fingers raising to rub the underside of her bare foot.

“Let’s see if we can’ fix that.” He sighed, handing her back the baby to her wince but she accepted her without a word. His right hand tucked the wisps of hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear before slipping to squeeze her aching shoulder. She found herself sagging in exhaustion, another tear escaping her against her will. “It’s to early f’r teethin’. Let’s see what’s wrong, hmm.” He tilted his head back to the stairs, pulling her behind him as a sigh of relief left her lips. She nodded as she followed his careful steps down the stairs, not even conscious of where they were going. Instinct had her cradling Judith to her chest, even as the girl protested. Her right hand cradled the baby’s head under her chin, her strength coming from reserves she didn’t know she had, to fight the thrashing. Her eyes and feet kept them upright without actual thought as she followed down the hall further into the prison. She found her already frayed nerves collapsing further as the moonlight receded into the depths of the concrete walls. If she hadn’t been trying with everything she had not to drop the squirming girl in her arms, she knew she’d reach out and grab hold of the back of her father’s shirt. They were both quiet as they walked, but Beth saw just a glint of metal in her fathers hand the further they went. Her own hands itched for the gun at her waistband. Both of them knew that even though they’d cleared the prison, beyond the locked door of A block, there was no such thing as a cleared space anymore. 

Herschel opened the door to the infirmary blindly and she watched as his eyes took in the silent space. She should have waited for him but she found herself stepping closer and shutting the door with her foot, plunging them into the continuing darkness. Beth made a concentrated effort not to crush Judith as she counted her breathing, hearing her father move around with little care as if he had the rooms layout memorized. She vaguely knew the lay out of the room herself but as an incredibly noisy engine blared to life, and with it the flickering of a lamp, she jumped. Her father gave her a gentle smile of understanding as her jaw set against the fear. Fear kept you alive these days, but she knew there was nothing she could do right then.

“Let’s see if we can’t get Judy feelin’ better? Hmm?” He motioned to the stainless steel before him and despite knowing the stretcher had come from the morgue she didn’t hesitate to sit down. They’d taken down the blood-stained curtains and moved all the dirtier gurneys to the back of the room, but even still the smell of death remained. She winced as Judith got another fistful of her hair but she could only watch as her father moved around the room. She found her eyes turning away from a bright light in his hands, listening to him hum to himself. She attempted to get Judith to look at him, but it took both of them to adjust the baby to their satisfaction. Even still she couldn’t stop the panicked questions that flooded her mind as Herschel rolled a thermometer across Judith’s forehead. If she was right and something really was wrong; what did that mean? Was Judith going to die because she’d missed something? Should she have woken everyone up? Should she have told them something was wrong before they all went to bed? What if not doing so had caused lasting damage? What was happening and how did she fix it? Could Judith rupture something in her screaming? Was she going to die like everyone else?

“Think I see the problem.” Herschel broke through her panic even as she unconsciously bounced her knee, still trying to sooth the girl. She hadn’t even realized her father had found a stool or was sitting in front of them. 

“Is she okay?” Her voice broke, her arms tightening even as a muscle twitched in her forearm. 

“It’s her sinus’. Season changin’, prison air. Minor infection, but she’ll be fine.” He reassured, putting his hand on her bouncing knee with a small and easy smile that was far too compassionate for her nerves. The tears started before she could stop them and before she could say anything, she and Judith were both wrapped in the safety of her father’s arms.

“She’s fine, Beth. She’s fine. Daryl brought ba’k some antibiotics, coupl’ weeks ago. She’ll be fine, baby. It isn’t you, sweetheart... It’s okay.” He reassured, but it was all she could do not to crush Judith between them. The relief was hot in her veins but she didn’t have it in her to ask how he knew what she was thinking as a sob escaped her lips. “Beth listen to me…” He sighed, moving away to quickly for her but it seemed his leg was giving him problems. In the harsh lamp light, she saw the circles under his eyes and it did nothing for her now gentle crying. The stool creaked as he pulled the wheels under him, and she found she could barely feel the pressure he returned to her knee.

“This is normal. Babies get sick.” He tried to catch her eye but all she could do was start rocking Judith, her abdomen screaming against such a thing and being ignored.

“She’s hurtin’.” Beth hiccupped, trying to let his reassuring words penetrate her panic. Judith would be okay. She would be okay.

“I know, baby…this is the hard part.” He rubbed her knee, a sadness and pain coloring his gaze as she finally met his eyes. “This is what being a parent is. She’ll be fine, Beth. I…didn’t want this for you…but you’re a natural. You’ll make an amazin’ mother one day, doodlebug. Judy here agrees. Just remember this part’s hardest. You do the best you can but you can’t keep ‘em safe from everythin’.” She took a minute to watch the sadness in her father’s eyes and she found herself grabbing his hand. Shawn’s ghost sat between them in heavy silence as Judith’s cries were only being muffled by her shirt. Her brother’s screams still haunted her nightmares and she could only imagine it still did her father as well. The silence dragged on between them, both not having anything to say. This was their new reality after all. Everyday they ran the risk of losing someone they loved. Holding his hand as tightly as she dared, she attempted to give him a small watery smile. His lips brushed her forehead in return with a sigh.

“Now…” He declared as if steeling himself against the pain in both their hearts. “Let’s get this littl’ on’ to bed, hm?” He stood, leaving another kiss on the top of her head soothingly before he opened a cabinet littered with orange pill bottles. She didn’t dare read the labels of their previous owners or let her mind wonder to just what had happened to them. Instead she watched as her father pulled what seemed to her was a random bottle up to the light. He sighed; the depression still heavy in the air as she stopped rocking to bounce her knee. 

“This should be just the ticket.” He tried in a false cheer she didn’t call him out on. She watched as he took a small knife to the even smaller white pill in his hands. 

“Daddy?” She couldn’t help the way her voice seemed tiny and juvenile. He turned his head to indicate he’d heard her but she saw his eyes didn’t leave the delicate task in front of him. “What if I can’t do this?” She found her deepest fear being released as her voice cracked and her arms constricted the red-faced baby in her arms. Would they take Judith away from her? There was a humoring and low chuckle from him as he made his way back to his stool. He didn’t answer her until he’d taken his finger, coated in a white powder and rubbed it into the gums of the wailing infant. Beth continued to hold the back of her head to make it easier, but even still her heart hurt.

“You can, baby. Every parent…we all think the same thing.” She leaned into the gentle scrap of his knuckle down her cheek. “Every day we worry. Our family is still here for that. You are strong, and I don’t want you to forget that. All we can do is love this little girl. That’s all we have left, baby. It’s enough.” He reassured her and she still didn’t know where he came up with so much strength. They’d lost everything but each other in this world and yet the way her father continued to pat her knee seemed in that moment to be all the ache in her heart needed. “Let’s get you both to bed, hm?” The gentle way he kissed her forehead once more made her bite back another sob. His gentle acceptance that she was every bit a mother to Judith also helped to ease her suffering because her heart knew it was true. Lori may have given everything she had to bring the young girl into the world, and Rick had her eyes, but Beth held her as she screamed. Beth knew she was the one that reached for Judith when Rick’s shoulders sagged without being asked. They all loved Judith, but she found herself possessively continuing to cling to the girl. She followed her father back down the dark and cold hallway, trying to stop the tears after he killed the generator.

“Everything alright?” Carol asked them as they reentered A block. It seemed her father wasn’t the only one giving up on sleep as they seemed to be greeted by the bleary eyes of everyone in the cell block. She sniffled, wiping her cheek on her shoulder in a bit of embarrassment. Her father’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, giving her an avenue to hid her face in his shoulder. She closed her eyes and took a shallow breath as he kissed her head once more and it helped. Every time he dropped a gentle kiss to her head, it helped, and she didn’t care if that made her a child to the rest of them.

“Think Judy here is gettin’ bit of a sinus infection. She’ll be fine.” He said, squeezing Beth to him to prove his point once more.

“Breakfast?” Glen halfway joked, but halfway grumbled, and it was then that Beth realized sometime in the walk back from the infirmary Judith had finally quieted. Pulling herself from her father’s safety she kissed the little girl’s cheek in relief. It hurt that Judith had only fallen asleep in pure exhaustion but as everyone started moving around in a practiced haze, she found herself finally taking a deep breath. She didn’t want to give up the baby, even when Carol reached for her. Every muscle in her was screaming in exhausted tension but it took a gentle nudge for her to release Judith. She heeded her father’s gentle nudge but not before hugging Judith as tightly as she dared and kissing her cheek again. Carol seemed to understand as she waited, both arms outstretched. She missed the knowing look between the woman and her father. Instead she closed her eyes as she turned over the baby. The absence of Judith’s weight seemed to trigger something in her knees as they started to shake.

“Maggie, why don’t you and Beth try to get some sleep? I’ll have a word with Rick in a bit. I think the run can wait a day.” Her father then nudged her again, but this time toward the stairs. She wanted to object about the weeds that needed her to pull them today or about the laundry she hadn’t finished the day before but instead she heeded him. With a sigh she trudged up the stairs, her calves protesting with every step. She didn’t find it in herself to even shrug her sisters arms off as they cradled her as if she were Judith and not nineteen. Instead she flopped onto her bed and let another tear fall as she was covered in her quilt and Maggie started running her fingers through her hair. 

It was noon by the time she woke, she was sure. The sun was high as the shaded light cascaded onto the floor beside her and not the wall. She wondered briefly if this was what being hungover felt like as her limbs refused to move and her head felt heavy against the pillow. The worst was her left elbow as it had been crooked under Judith nearly two days straight. But she forced herself to get up, a pop echoing off the walls as she reached her hand out to the metal of her bunk. She winced but rolled her neck next, another pop echoing against the gentle hum of prison life outside her privacy sheet. She had slept harder than she thought as she continued flexing her muscles in experimentation. Arching her back left a wince on her lips before she counted to three and forced herself to stand. She had a job to do and she would not sleep all day. Her only thought was to check on Judith before her eyes caught something out of place in front of her. The ache in her heart swayed her back to sitting on her bunk, but for a very different reason than before. 

A calm affection worked its way up from the pit of her stomach at the five strips of jerky sitting across from her. She’d been so worried about Judith she hadn’t even realized how hungry she was, or that she’d been skipping meals pretty regularly the last week. They were in a haphazard pile, leading her to believe he hadn’t lingered over her while she slept. Because only Daryl Dixon was quiet enough to get in and out of her bunk without waking her these days. A tired smile finally cracked her lips against the desperate worry that had eaten away at her for what felt like days now. She reached out with her right hand and found herself tearing into what was rabbit without a thought. She’d finished the last of her jerky the day before last when she’d taken refuge in the garden against the smell of dinner inside. She’d felt singled out at every meal in the last week when she sat with her conversing family and their differing plates. She no doubt would be eating stale pop tarts again in her bunk tonight, but as she chewed something inside her finally felt good again. And she wanted to hug the shit out of Daryl for it. She closed her eyes as she savored her lunch, her stomach growling in long forgotten hunger. 

Just like that she felt a little steadier as she reached her feet once more. Her muscles still ached and she was still worried about Judith but this little scrap of food…of affection from Daryl, was enough to make her day. Hell, it might have made her week. After all, she reminded herself, she wasn’t starving. Her stomach wasn’t thanking her lately for the sweet change in her diet but that was a reality they all lived with. Pop Tarts every day, all day, did not excite her anymore as it once had as a child but they kept her feet trudging forward. No, she wasn’t starving like they had on the road what was beginning to feel like a year ago. She didn’t want to read too much into it, but her stomach still flipped as she broke off another bite with her teeth. He did this for her, and that thought was still enough for the pain in her back to fade from her mind. She put another strip in her pocket, an absent thought to the last time she’d showered or changed clothes before leaving her sanctuary and finishing her lunch. 

She intended to check on Judith and then find her midmorning visitor and throw her arms around him. He’d no doubt pat her back, embarrassed as he had the last time, but she was not going to be denied. He was to sweet to let this go. She wanted nothing more than to feel those hands she so admired locked around her aching soreness. A blush worked its way up her neck at the thought, since less innocent things accompanied thoughts of what she would like to do to Daryl. It was only a short minute before she greeted everyone mulling about down the staircase and she pushed the way Daryl’s hand had lingered on her back, from her mind. 

Judith was still asleep to her great relief as she joined Carol in the showers. Her timing was apparently perfect as the woman had fussed one handed at a towel, attempting to fold it. The stainless-steel horse trough they used for a laundry basin sat in the closest stall to the door full of at least a weeks’ worth of laundry. The concrete half walls separating each shower stall looked to be buried under half dried shirts. They shared a quiet laugh, but neither dared break the quiet of the room otherwise. 

Seeing Judith sleeping against Carol’s left shoulder soothed the ache in her heart just a little more. There was a tiny bubble of drool under the girl’s chin that she wiped away without thought. Pushing a wisp of dark hair from the baby’s face, Beth found a deep breath rattling her lungs. It seemed to finally hit her then, that Judith really would be alright. As if sensing Beth’s relief Carol laid a quiet hand on her shoulder. She managed a smile for her, but ducked her head after a moment. Her panic seemed a little foolish in the daylight. Without a word she knelt to the bench between the lockers on both walls and begun folding the towels drying there. The correction officers shower was blessedly well lit by the two high barred windows, but even still she felt a small draft she didn’t acknowledge. Instead she found her eyes sweeping over Judith again, but Carol’s kind and softened eyes reassured her. The other woman pulled the baby just a bit closer to her, dropping a kiss to Judith’s forehead before continuing her one-handed tasks. A peace settled into her bones knowing Judith was well cared for and loved no matter who held her. But she tried to hide a smirk that she knew Judith’s favorites, after her father of course, were her and Daryl. Carl didn’t count she reassured herself with a soft chuckle.

While she wanted to keep her eyes on Judith, Beth also found herself wanting once more to find Daryl as the afternoon wore on. Carol didn’t want to talk as they worked, but Beth also understood when she didn’t want to release Judith. Beth felt Sophia’s presence in the thick and quiet air, but just as she hadn’t been able to say anything to her father that night, she didn’t have the words to comfort Carol. Instead she made herself content to stare at Judith’s sleeping figure in the woman’s arms. It seemed to be the only thing the woman needed and Beth understood that. She understood that to her core. When the sun began to leave them both women moved toward the door without needing to say a word. Beth through on a clean brown t-shirt that dwarfed her from Maggie’s now clean laundry. Throwing her tank-top into the trough of cold water to be finished the next day they left, not taking anything with them. Her fingers traced the hilt of the gun in her waistband as they walked, but Carol didn’t seem as on edge. 

She found Judith finally back in her arms then as Carol went into the kitchen to help Maggie. She had a brief moment of regret that she wasn’t in there helping them, but the smell of peanuts wafted to her nose and she found herself running the back of her hand over it with an itch. She saw the discarded box of Benadryl on the concrete table then and understood that maybe Judith’s sleeping wasn’t just out of exhaustion. Still Beth dropped a succession of quick kisses to the baby’s forehead. Cradling Judith’s head once more under her chin was rapture to her heart and frayed nerves. She let herself drink in that the young girl was going to be alright as Maggie and Carol’s voices carried to her. She found her eyes closing as she sat on top of the table, the unique baby smell of Judith’s hair lulling her into a state of peace. She found herself wrapped around the sleeping girl even as people began to trickle in, but she only looked up for Rick. She wasn’t proud of flinching away from his exhausted call of her name. A fear she’d thought gone once more bubbled to the surface as Judith seemed to shift, gentling waking. She forced herself to look into his gaze by sheer willpower, but despite the breath she held she didn’t see any of the accusation she expected. 

“Mind if I see my little girl? Seems like it’s been all day.” A tired laugh reached her disbelieving ears. She wondered how he didn’t seem to be blaming her for the empty box of Benadryl next to her hip or the lack of sleep visible in his eyes. She found herself tense, waiting for it, but after a moment Rick still didn’t say anything. He shared a tired look with whoever moved to sit on the bench behind her. But when he still didn’t blame her for getting his baby sick, she found her eyes narrowing in confusion. Instead of say any of the horrifying things now once more flashing in her guilty conscious however she found herself exhaling, startled. Rick’s hands found both of her ears in the gentlest of grasps. He bent her head forward even more gently and it was all she could do not to strangle Judith as he kissed her forehead with a chuckle, the same way her father did.

“I promise, I’ll give her back.” He teased, earning several more chuckles around her as she began to realize most of their family was now staring at her. She blushed, unlocking her arms from his daughter and the sounds of conversation resumed around them. She nodded to him as he softly greeted a bleary-eyed stare from the little girl.

“Hey there beautiful.” Rick whispered, his lips finding Judith’s cheek as they had her forehead. She watched as his arms secured around Judith before she physically made herself relax. Taking deep breaths through her nose she pushed the irrational fear back down to the depths of her unconsciousness. Her insecurities threatened to choke her, but still Rick didn’t even turn back in her direction. She saw him ruffle Carl’s hair as he came running into the room. He threw his dad’s hand off with an affectionate scowl at whatever his father seemed to tease him with. But she jumped when a large and all-encompassing hand landed on her thigh. 

She knew that hand without looking down and it seemed to burn for her attention. She really needed to get a hold of her fascination with his hands…especially when they were on her. A blush worked up the back of her neck as he asked if she was alright. She could only nod, dropping her head to glance at the weathered lines of the years he’d spent in the sun. She found herself leaning backward, supporting her weight on her palms, unwilling to retreat from dinner now as she’d planned over lunch. His hand didn’t shift as she leaned and for that she was both disappointed and appreciative. The aching in her back now forgotten she found her eyes closing and her head tilting back toward the ceiling. 

She still didn’t understand how one simple touch was enough to ease the stress of the last few days from her. In truth, she didn’t truly want to know. Instead she let her mind block the entire room out of her consciousness. She zeroed in on the warmth of the unmoving palm swallowing her left thigh. She took a deep breath then, letting herself focus only on the unyielding yet gentle weight of his hand. He crushed walkers with that hand and yet it would leave no trace on her skin but phantom heat. Which was both a blessing and a curse. She knew letting herself get lost in Daryl’s touch was not a wise decision but she found she couldn’t help it. Her arms were shaking in what she wanted to think was exhaustion but as she opened her eyes she knew better. She only hoped everyone around her didn’t.

“Thank you.” She finally found her voice, her boldness startling her as without a pause she leaned to press a kiss on the stubble of his right cheek. She didn’t dare linger as she wanted, but it didn’t seem to matter as his eyes widened just enough to tear her thoughts from his lingering fingers. She felt his hand tense against the denim of her thigh, holding her tighter but other than not meet her eye he simply shrugged. She couldn’t make out what he grumbled at her but the way he wouldn’t meet her eye again made her smile brighter than she had in a long while. It was entirely endearing to see a small blush coloring his cheeks. She bit her lip to stop a giggle at his expense when after a moment he still didn’t meet her eye. She had the distinct urge to kiss him again, just to see what he’d do but Maggie’s entrance seemed to do something for the comfortable ease they’d fallen into. He snapped his hand off of her leg as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding onto her. She felt a sudden loss at the action and she almost whined but caught herself. After all, she didn’t want to break whatever spell had him putting his hands on her in the first place. 

“Bethie, can you carry these, please?” Maggie called, seeming to balance four bowls in her arms with a considerable amount of difficulty at the same time Carol called into the room that dinner was ready. She didn’t want to get up and it bothered her a little. There was an irritation tingling under the skin of her now cold thigh but she shook it off and launched to her feet. Taking the two bowls of greenish looking soup from Maggie’s elbows she sighed past her sister’s thanks. Everyone found a seat as the two women made their way back to the assembly. Beth let her eyes rake in her family, noting the absence of only Tyrese and Michonne. She wondered absently if Michonne was alright, but out of everyone she called family she knew, save Daryl, that the woman was the most likely to survive this world. Placing a bowl in front of her father she let herself greedily take in the laughter surrounding her. Sasha made a joke about the budding relationship between her brother and the Woodbury woman that had offered to bring him his dinner and it brought another wave of laughter to the hall. She found her earlier smile resuming as even Daryl couldn’t help but smirk.

“Beth.” Carol nudged her gently then, but it was the pop tart wrapper in her hand that got her attention first. Her stomach thought about the sugary pastry with a lack of enthusiasm, but she took it from her. Her reluctance must have been broadcast as her father gently called her name. She shifted her eyes to him but she couldn’t help the small voice of guilt his apology caused in her already grumbling stomach. Shaking her head, she put the pop tart on the table and patted his shoulder, a deeper understanding flooding her bones. His words the night before came back to her and while she’d always known her father would protect her against anything, she couldn’t help but see this in a new light. She found a small smile returning to her lips, more to reassure him she was fine than anything else. 

Finally noticing the bowl still in her hands at his nod, she shrugged. She was now more aware of the ache between her shoulder blades than ever. Though it seemed having her simply holding something that could kill her had more than just her father worried. She could all but physically feel Rick, Maggie, Glen, Sasha and Carol’s eyes locked in on her hand. Without thinking she took the two steps to Daryl, who along with Rick, had a bad habit of waiting until everyone else had started eating to get something for himself. He was examining the shaft of a bolt before he moved his hands from in front of himself for her with only a glance. The ease returned to her shoulders then as she didn’t have to say a word for him and he didn’t so much as ask her what she was doing. 

It was a breath before she even realized she was an inch to close to him. She didn’t need to put her hand on his shoulder to balance as she leaned forward, but she did anyway. Where the hard feel of leather under her fingers made her shoulders ease it seemed to have the opposite effect on the man before her. She hesitated a brief moment then, afraid maybe she had over stepped. After all, Daryl had initiated all of these interactions before today. Maybe he actually didn’t realize he had started touching her or that she would want to do the same. There was an almost palpable surge of heat in her fingers and she wondered, as the bowl hit the table top, if he was going to shrug her off. But he didn’t to her relief. Instead, as she leaned up, he didn’t so much as say a word. It took him another moment to grab a spoon from the center of the table. But when he still didn’t shake off her hand, she found her lips twitching once again in a genuine smile. She let her fingertips slip to just barely nudge the exposed skin at the side of his neck before she withdrew. She noticed his hands clenched into fists, but when he still didn’t snap at her, she found her stomach flipped in anything but hunger.

She was leaning down once more before she could remind herself it wasn’t the brightest idea. Bringing her lips to his left cheek this time she let herself linger half a second longer than before, but only just. She heard his breathing hitch and felt the tension in his shoulders radiate from him as her chest connected with the hard edge of his shoulder. But she took pity on him by pulling back quickly, even if that ever-present ache for his hands urged her to stay. Taking the jerky from her pocket she turned her eyes back to her father. There was a mischievous glint in his eye she didn’t quite understand as she bit into her squirrel.

“I’m good, Daddy.” She reassured him, but found herself teasing Rick to turn the curious eyes away from her and Daryl. “But somebody promised me a baby.” She heard Glen choke on his soup as Maggie called her name seemingly scandalized at her choice of words, but almost everyone else burst out laughing and it was a welcoming sound. 

“Christ.” Daryl snorted, his spoon landing on the table as he shook his head at her. She found her feet nearly bouncing despite the deep-seated pain of days on them at the crook of his smirk. She was around the table holding her hands out expectantly before Maggie had finished pounding Glen’s back. She scrunched her fingers playfully before Rick gave his daughter up with another deep chuckle. Judith seemed in a better mood then as she gurgled, finally happy for at least the moment to be in Beth’s arms again. Rick shot his arms up in a playful surrender as their family went back to eating and for one more night the ongoing apocalypse wasn’t just outside the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a bit with Herschel's endearments. Forewarning; next chapter rating goes up. I listened to "Before You Go" By Lewis Capaldi on repeat for hours while writing this. You can blame him.


	3. Sharp Sting

One _inch_. That was all she had been asking for and yet even now she couldn’t find it in her to even think of breaking the status quo again. Maybe she’d taken a mile instead. Even if she let her mind wander to visions of moving his hands over her body, she always stuffed such things down into the darkness of her bunk. Though she would still give just about anything for Daryl to move his hand just one inch higher or lower; she didn’t care. But he’d seemed to, since even now she could draw a map on her skin of boundaries he created. His gentle affectionate squeezes were utter masochistic torture and he didn’t seem to even know what he was doing to her.

His hand now seemed to have a permanent spot on the small of her back and she’d have it no other way if that was all he’d give her. The gentle way his fingers would spread just enough before he removed them still haunted her every waking daydream. In fact, her obsession was getting so bad she knew the others had finally started to pick up on it. She could still feel the blush on her cheeks at the gentle teasing Carol and Carl had subjected her to that morning.

It was a vague hope to think no one else would ever notice. Not that she was even sure there was something to notice. Sure, his maddening hands found her without hesitation now, but maybe she was the one that needed to dial it down. Since he’d let her kiss his cheek that night, she couldn’t find it in herself to stop touching him. Over the last days she’d found her hands on his ribs to reach around him, her fingers wrapping around his arm in passing, and one palm on his cheek. She still felt remorse about that last one. Maybe if he had come back to the prison since, she’d feel better about the way she chose to say goodbye. She truly did hate goodbyes. She found a heavy sigh leaving her lips as she brushed wet earth from under her hands onto the denim of her jeans. Maybe it was just because it was the first time; the first time he shook her off.

She knew he would eventually. And if she was honest with herself, she knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Beth couldn’t give up touching him. She’d tried to steel her heart against this, but as it had been three days it seemed she failed. She knew logically that he was just showing her he cared for her as a member of their family. After all he hugged and touched Judith all the time. But she’d prayed with every ounce of faith she still had that she wasn’t in the same category.

But reality was still able to bite her quicker than a starving walker. He had to be in his thirties and she was nineteen. No matter how much it pained her, he could see her like Maggie did. She’d had two boyfriends and a man like Daryl would have had a lot more girlfriends than that. She still felt a small affectionate twitch of her lips at the memory of Jimmy’s fumbling. If she’d known the world was about to end, that he wasn’t long for this world, she’d have let him do more than unbutton her jeans that night in the barn. Daryl, on the other hand, would have done far more than fumbled a hand into her shorts. He’d seen the world before it went to shit. He’d probably done things she could only fantasize about. He rode a motorcycle so loud he drew walkers to him everywhere he went. She was only allowed to be on the fence once a week. He smoked and he cursed. She still heeded her father’s orders without pause. There was nothing in the world that frightened Daryl Dixon and she wasn’t him.

Nothing about a relationship with Daryl Dixon made sense on paper. But she couldn’t tell that to the nervous excitement that flooded her system when he was near her. She couldn’t stop staring at his hands and wondering just how much he could teach her about anything with them. And she wanted him to teach her so many things and not all of them stuffed into the darkness of her bunk. Could he teach her to track? Would she be able to hunt one day? Could he even consider teaching her to use the rifle up in the watch tower? She knew he’d grind his teeth if she even asked, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t agree. She could picture the exact way he would drag his bottom lip into his teeth so as not to snap at her for asking. She had it bad and she knew it frighteningly enough.

It was the way his voice softened when he talked to Judith. It sent tingles down her spine. She had spent hours just admiring the way he carried himself in everyday tasks. He took on so much to protect them all and Beth knew it was only because he cared. He could have left them on the farm. He could have stayed gone with Merle, but the fact he came back to them turned her to a pile of gelatin. She’d been so angry at him for leaving. Because even then she’d known it wasn’t who he was. But it was the way his hair fell in his eyes that had been her undoing. Leaning against the pickup truck he was about to leave in with Rick she’d felt her stomach clench. And her traitorous hands had reached to push his bangs away and settled her palm against his cheek on their way to murdering her heart. She could still hear the echo of the truck door as his back hit it and he was gone in half a mutter. An inch…that’s all she’d wanted to move.

She was losing track of how long it had been since he’d started his new annoyingly unpleasant distraction, but she thought he and Rick had been gone three days. Had it been a week? A month, maybe? No, it couldn’t have been more than a week since she still had the last strip of jerky in her pocket. The same pocket his fingers had brushed the first time he’d touched her after her episode. And no…no she was not going there when even now she still felt a sting of rejection.

The dandelion in her fingers squirmed as she yanked the offending weed from their garden. Her knees were soaked through from last night’s rain, but even that was an easier torture to endure when everything in her was warring with itself. Judith squirmed in the harness attached to her back, but Beth couldn’t find it in herself not to jostle the girl. Tugging weeds was about as aggressive an activity as anyone let her do anymore and yet it wasn’t enough for the electric charge Daryl had left days ago. The world was confusing. Daryl was confusing.

“Beth.” Carol caught her attention just as a particularly attached weed refused to release the earth. She was determined that this one weed was coming out of the pumpkin patch if it took the skin off her hand to do so. Twisting the stalk around her fingers she yanked harder than necessary but with no less measure of satisfaction when it gave. She landed on her behind and twisted her upper body to make sure Judith was safe before looking up for the older woman helping her with the day’s chore.

“Something’s wrong.” The older woman squinted, her hands at rest on the top of the wooden shovel. Beth followed her gaze out toward the fence, agreeing after a moment. The rusted red pickup coming down the road was Rick’s, which should have inspired a moment of relief…but whoever was driving was speeding alarmingly fast. She hit her feet, snapping the clasps of Judith’s harness in the same motion. Sliding the giggling girl to her arms she gave her to Carol without a question or answer.

The shovel made a soft thud as it met the ground, but Beth was already four feet from them when it fell. She was the fastest. There weren’t many things she could do over anyone else in her family, but as her feet sprinted, she had all but forgotten how fast she could move. Fear pushed her forward as Glen’s voice from the watch tower was drowned out in the wind. Hurling herself around the overturned bus her blistered hands yanked at the gate chain. Throwing her entire weight behind the pully she watched, horrified when the truck barely cleared in its haste. The hissing of walkers greeted her ears as she threw herself backward. The sudden release of weight had the gate slicing shut with a deafening screech of metal.

“What happened?” She heard Tyreese call through the gap of the fences just as the driver side door bounced on its hinges.

“Doc!” Daryl yelled, no one giving a thought to the racket they were making for the eight walkers still lingering on the fence. She briefly caught sight of the back of him before he was bounding around the hot hood of the pick-up. The red clay of the Georgia countryside was caked across him as if an armor. There was panic in his mad dash around the truck. Managing to scramble forward she made it to his side as the rest of their family began to pour from their stations.

The first thing she registered was the coppery smell of blood. It was a smell she unfortunately knew well these days. It clung to all things, living and dead. Though it was no less of an unpleasant realization that it wafted from the passenger door. Whether it was coming from the mud encrusted man reaching into the truck, or the crumpled man he pulled forward she wasn’t sure.

It seemed both were worse for wear. Clay, mud, and blood swirled together between the two men and it was a jarring sight. Her heart froze as Rick flopped in Daryl’s grasp and she found it in her to pray he wasn’t dead. It was only Daryl’s call for her father then that made her move. The panic of Rick’s head landing heavily on Daryl’s shoulder pulled her forward, her arms reaching around to hold the man upright through sheer will as Daryl attempted to get his arm slung around him.

Beth threw her shoulders and chest up as far as she could to hold Rick’s torso against gravity. It was a concentrated effort not to acknowledge the squish of what she hoped was mud as she was rocked back in the effort. She marveled a brief second at Daryl’s strength before she was throwing Rick’s other arm around her shoulders. She felt her feet slide in the mud, the man’s unconscious weight seeming to tuck her into the wet earth. She knew Daryl was pulling most of Rick’s weight by the way he leaned but it was all she could do not to gasp at just how heavy he truly was.

“Herschel!” Daryl called again, neither prepared for the horrified gaze of Carl when they turned as one to take him inside. Her frozen heart broke at the desperation in his son’s gaze. His father’s arm was limp over her shoulders and his feet dragged through the mud between her and Daryl as they pulled him more fully from the truck. She had to help him.

That was the only thing important right now. Rick was upright between them, even if he was listing to his left and Daryl. He was vastly heavier than she’d thought he could be but she could keep him upright. Daryl was the one truly carrying him, and she knew it wasn’t easy by the sight of him and her job was clear. She could and she would keep Rick from hitting the ground. The effort was considerable as Daryl tugged him forward once more and she could do little but follow. Her right hand found Rick’s and she pulled harder than she probably should have to counterbalance herself.

Nothing mattered but to get Rick through the inner gate and into her father’s care. Because he wasn’t dead. Daryl wouldn’t have brought him back like this if he was dead. She knew that in her gut. Even if Carl was screaming to be told as much. Beth watched as Tyreese grabbed the young boy’s shoulder one handed and forcefully dragged him away from them. Her eyes were drawn to Carl’s fight as he pushed at the larger man’s unrelenting hand. She watched as Tyreese dropped the blood encrusted crowbar in his grasp to wrap his arms around the struggling teen. Daryl tugged her along through Rick and it was the only thing she knew she needed to focus on. Glen was slamming the watch tower door when it seemed she could register the amount of noise they were making.

As if a swirling breeze the world returned to her senses with a heavy exhale. The truck engine was still running behind her. The walkers were snarling beyond the fence in renewed fever. Maggie and her father were flying through the inner fence with Carol and Judith. There were terrified gasps coming from three Woodbury residents going about their day in the courtyard. Every step she took had a heavy exhale of effort escaping her lips. Daryl was cussing…

“Get the fuck back‘up there.” Daryl snapped at Glen as he made to step in her direction and it was all any of them needed to know about what had happened. This was done by people…The knowledge seemed to hit them all in varying stages of the same deadly venom. Maggie reacted first thankfully, wrapping her arm around Beth’s waist to help steady Rick’s uneven momentum. It seemed she hadn’t realized her face was red in the effort of carrying even a quarter of Rick’s size.

“Get him inside.” Her father called calmly, but she’d grown up with that voice. Her ears detected the deadly anger in his tone. She’d feared that anger well into her apocalypse years. Her mother had yelled when she was angry. Her father was always calm in his anger and it was still more frightening to this day. Maggie seemed to hear it as well when she flinched, but both women followed Daryl’s tug of Rick’s weight.

The prison door slammed behind them without a care to the noise. The echo was hauntingly out of place as all of their boots stomped down the hallway. Her shoulders were shaking by the time they made it to the infirmary, but she still didn’t move away from Rick until they were all helping to haul him onto the stainless-steel stretcher.

“What happened?” Her father asked, turning Rick’s head toward him to reward them all with the sight of a bloody and weeping gash to Rick’s right temple. The smell that had hit her earlier greeted her nostrils once more and her eyes greedily took in the absence of pain on Rick’s face. The sunlight of the window behind him cascaded over him to reveal red and purple splotches along his neck if she looked past the mud.

“Michonne was fuckin’ late. That’s what the fuck happen’t. I wen’ trackin’ a fuckin’ deer and I come back to those fuckin’…” Daryl snarled, kicking the stretcher beside him clear across the room in his anger. The deafening crash caused them all to remember Judith was there as she cried in alarm. The baby's cry seemed to chill Daryl’s anger as he froze under the sound of Rick’s daughter. Beth wasn’t proud of flinching either, but she hadn’t quite got her breath under control yet.

“Girls. I need you get to go get Dr. S. and Bob. I’m gonna need an extra pair of hands. Think maybe Carl could use this little on’, hmm?” Herschel tried to ask with that false calm once more but no one called him out on it. And despite a sharp ache to wrap her arms around Daryl popping back up at the worst time she complied. Neither sister said a word as they were dismissed from the room. Judith seemed to be the only one to object as the three women made their way back down the hall. Still without a sound, Maggie turned right where she turned left when the prison door slammed once again behind them.

Dr. S. was not hard to find as the Woodbury residents of his cell block had apparently gone running for him. It did nothing for the hatred surging through her veins, but it did help Beth to remember that not all people in the world were bad. There were still good people in this world, but right now all she could do was keep reminding herself of that when the good doctor disappeared into A block.

As if on autopilot she moved back toward the engine she could still hear over the now eerie silence. Carl and Tyreese were not in the yard when she pulled the inner gate open and slipped through. Someone from Woodbury was on the fence and it made her look up and make sure Glen was in the watch tower. He nodded to her from his position on the balcony, as if he could read her mind. It helped to ease the unhelpful fear now sitting in her lower stomach.

It was then her eyes took in what she hadn’t wanted to notice. There was red spotted mud flung from every tire of the humming truck. Though her gut knew it was not clay this time. No, this was the result of walkers. She’d scrubbed enough walker from the clothes of everyone in the prison to know the difference. Her nose revolted at the stench of blood and death that greeted her opening of the driver’s door but she bit down the bile. Gasoline was a finite resource these days and she made herself ignore the floorboard contents until she’d turned the key.

It was no wonder she’d smelled it before she’d seen it. Drops of blood littered the steering wheel and she could only guess someone had their face smashed against it. The windshield was no better and she suspected one swift kick would have it shattering at the spiderweb of cracks across it. It was the edges of hastily frayed rope that sat in a nauseating pool of red that had her covering her mouth and a dry sob escaped. The neon green of a broken bolts fletching pinned a strip of ragged denim to the floorboard beside it. If the flap of torn flesh beneath it had belonged to a walker it hadn’t been dead long. Though even if she wanted to believe it was from a walker, her gut knew. That had probably been someone’s leg. She wondered if it was Rick’s for a horrifying second but that could only have come from the crossbow thrown haphazardly into the middle console. No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t do this yet. Not with Judith and Carl’s voices still screaming for Rick in her ears.

Grabbing the crossbow, she slammed the door behind her and breathed greedily through her mouth to not smell the scene behind her. No, she would leave that clean up until she knew Rick was okay. She’d seen this before. Patricia had literally been torn to pieces before her eyes and she willed the screaming from her ears with all the stubbornness she could muster. He had to be okay. She wouldn’t allow herself to think anything else. Her father, Dr. S., and Daryl were all right there for him. Nothing else could touch him, and even as her gut clenched, she tried to convince herself that included death.

She slung the crossbow over her head and shoulder as she’d seen Daryl do every day. The gentle knock to her shoulder blades had a heavy reassuring effect that came with it. Having never so much as held his crossbow herself, she found her fingers sliding along the leather strap as it fitted between her breasts with ease. It was heavier than she thought it would be. And despite herself she couldn’t remember when she’d had time to think about the weight of Daryl’s crossbow.

Beth let her fingers trail over the strap as she rested the back of her head on the closed window. He’d hit his head on this window the last time she’d seen him and it hurt to think about now. The urge to wrap Daryl in her arms and reassure herself he was still alive crept back up as she mindlessly trailed her fingers up and down. Closing her eyes, she could pretend the weight on her shoulders wasn’t his weapon but his arm. A few deep breaths later she reminded herself she had a job to do. The sun blinded her a second before she sighed. No, his crossbow as a sad substitute but it was no less comforting across her back. He was alive. Rick would be okay. She could believe that for them.

But as she moved to lower the tail gate and unload whatever they had managed to bring back her eyes widened in absolute terror. There was the culprit for the purpling of Rick’s neck and maybe death would have been a welcome relief. Two wet lengths of rope were tied to the bumper before her. Both continuing to drip a steady stream of blood onto the ground beneath them. They had been cut over the trailer hitch and one was still knotted against it.

No, even her faith wasn’t strong enough to see this. Throwing the tail gate down she dove into the truck bed and threw out both Daryl and Rick’s backpacks. She ignored the trail of blood that soaked into her shin as she slid her way back out along the streaks of red. A tuft of brown fur tickled her hip as she lowered herself back to the ground as swiftly as she could manage. Grabbing both packs, she didn’t bother to close the tail gate in her hurry to get back inside. Daryl and Rick were inside and she needed to be there.

Though there was nothing she could do as she waited in the dining area with a crying Judith and a morbidly silent Carl, she sat there none the less. She held one of Carl’s hands even as the sun started to set, laying her head on her friends’ shoulder. No one had any words of comfort to throw around but she tried. They ran the risk of losing those they loved every day. That reality was like a heavy cloud of despair as people wandered in and out around them. Even Maggie did not have the energy to reprimand her for helping with dinner hours after sun set. The candles they worked by were a headache inducing mix of scents but the itch of peanuts kept her from smelling most of them. She couldn’t even find more than a humoring smile for Carol’s attempt to tease her about the crossbow slung across her shoulders. She found her fingers rubbing up and down the leather strap where Daryl’s had been to keep her own depression at bay as time wore on.

“Son?” Her father’s voice broke the reserved silence they’d all fallen into over their midnight meal. Every head snapped up for his entrance and Beth slid the packet of half eaten pop tarts from her without thinking. Carl lifted his hard stare from Judith’s sleeping snore, but Beth saw the relief in her father’s shoulders before anyone else. She let out an exhale of pure emotion before Carl could ask the question on everyone’s minds.

“He’s awake, son. He’s askin’ for you.” Her father gave them all a weary smile, wiping his hands on a towel as he came further into the room. No one missed that there was both fresh and dried blood all over his hands but they said nothing. She expected Carl to hand her Judith but it seemed no amount of relief would tear the youngest Grimes from her big brother’s arms. Instead she watched as Carl made his way toward her father and they disappeared together. She envied the steadying hand that landed on the teens shoulder, but buried it by running her hand down the leather on her own shoulder once more. Rick was going to be alright, and while she’d been saying that all day; it finally felt real.

“Beth. Do me a favor and take this to Daryl. Tell him the good news.” Carol softly tore her attention away from the darkened doorway. Blinking at the blue mixing bowl being held out to her she raised an eyebrow but she doubted it could be seen in the candle light. The water sloshed precariously as she took it, but found herself wondering just why Carol was putting a washcloth in the bowl before a dread filled her veins.

“They dragged them both before she found them.” The other woman’s soft confession tore at her relief bitterly. The ropes still sitting on the bumper of the pickup truck in the yard beyond the wall flashed in her vision. She felt sick, but she nodded. There was no question then as to what had happened and she’d been trying all day not to think about those two ropes or the cab of the truck. She owed Michonne a hug, but right then she balanced the half full bowl on her left hip and retrieved his backpack from beside her ankle.

“Go easy on him.” Carol whispered and despite the extra weight in her hands Beth found her words were what threatened to topple her. “He didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” There was a soft almost motherly mocking in the kindness of the older woman’s tone that felt belittling but Beth couldn’t deny her words.

“We’re fine.” Beth found herself snapping under the attention, grateful everyone else had begun to move to their bunks now that Rick was alright. Sasha had guard duty but she wondered who had been given second shift since they all looked ready to fall. She wondered if Michonne had found anything about today’s attack or if she too was asleep somewhere safe.

“He’s a baby bird.” Carol sighed, seeming to know her motherly affection was not well received. Beth’s mother had been bitten and killed twice in front of her. She did not want or need a mother, but even as the mean thought crossed behind her eyes she sagged. She knew Carol would see it. She was just surprised no one else had mentioned the fact she was still wearing Daryl’s crossbow. He’d snuck up to his bunk while she’d been in the kitchen but still, she should have made a bigger point of returning it to him. Some part of her wasn’t ready to face him.

“Just go easy on him.” Carol shook her head with an identical sigh. Beth was left to simply stare as the older woman moved back into the darker part of the room, appearing to be the one with second shift. She had no idea what had just happened but it felt very, very weird. She frowned when she took note that her heart rate had already started jumping. That was not okay. No, she needed to be calm.

They all needed her to be calm and to not snap their heads off for trying to help. Daryl was likely to do plenty of that. Heaving his pack with a grunt she tried to not spill anything on her way up the stairs. Because goodness what did he have in that thing; rocks? Though even as she concentrated on not spilling the water in the bowl her heart continued to jump. She thought she’d feel better having him back in the prison, but under these circumstances…no this was worse. Because now she wasn’t sure she could touch him. He hadn’t wanted her to and this was not the time to force the conversation both of them had been avoiding.

She wondered if they’d been avoiding it for different reasons but as the moonlight guided her down the hall to the last cell she couldn’t help halting. She knew she was a ridiculous sight, weighted down with his crossbow, pack, and a half sloshing bowl of water but she stared at his privacy curtain. This far down the line he never really needed to pull the curtain down. She and Judith were the only visitors he ever truly got unless Rick needed something. But he’d pulled it down and in front of the bars tonight. A sharp sting of rejection returned against her will. This was not the time to be thinking about how they had left each other days ago. He was most likely in a lot of pain by what she’d saw in that truck. He’d been dragged behind it…and then he’d had to carry Rick home. That was what had her pulling the curtain aside with a confidence she didn’t possess.

He was sitting on the edge of his bunk, his head hung but staring at the wall when she finally forced her courage forward. He’d lit a candle on top of a filing cabinet that seemed to hold several broken bolts and small tools, but she only had eyes for his. He twitched in her direction as she nudged the privacy sheet further to the side and shimmied her way under it without asking permission. The moonlight that had guided her to his cell didn’t quite vanish behind the shower curtain but she was grateful he’d been awake like the rest of them. Even if she could still see the crusted lines of mud across his jawline.

“What tha’ fuck ya’ doin’ with tha’, Greene?” He snapped at her, eyes zeroed in on his crossbow, and where she’d been worried he might, she stiffened her spine. Rolling her eyes at his nonexistent thanks for heaving his stuff up a flight of stairs she plopped his pack down with a huff.

“Rick’s awake.” She exhaled, wanting to tell him he’d be okay but not finding the words when she got her first true look at him like she had the truck.

He’d been running his hands through his hair since it was unruly in a strangled way. Yet he hadn’t managed to get all the dried clay out. There was a smear of hardened earth that followed a red line down from his left ear to disappear into the darkness of his clothes. Those purple dots she’d seen on Rick were there, but without most of the mud she made out their true shape. The rope burns around his neck glinted in the dim light like a beacon of agony to her frayed nerves. Dots of bruising standing out against the red friction lines. He still smelled like blood from across the room and when he stood toward her angrily, she found herself matching it.

She imagined murdering who ever had done this to him to keep the glare in her gaze as he crowded her space. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to intimidate her and she knew it wouldn’t be the last either. Instead of give in like most everyone else she simply found one hand closing around the leather strap on her chest.

No, he wasn’t getting rid of her just yet. He could reject her. He could scream at her. He could even curse and throw shit at her but she would be damned if he was going to sit here like that. She shoved her way further into his small space, seeming to unsettle him by the way he grit his teeth and relented the half step. The bowl found the top of the filing cabinet without much hassle but she did move the candle a little closer toward his bed.

“Take that the fuck off, for’ you hurt ya self.” He snarled even as his hands motioned to the crossbow and Beth found her eyes meeting his. She knew a wounded animal when she saw one. She literally had him backed into a corner since his shoulders clanked the top of the bunk bed behind him. And yet all she wanted to do was reach out and wrap her arms around him, even if he threw her out of their easy friendship.

“Sit down, and shut up.” She found herself commanding, no idea where the gall came from as she shoved her hand into his shoulder with as much force as she could. The action seemed to startle him more than anything and she was grateful since she worried a minute that she’d hurt him. Instead he simply rocked back on his heels, and she cursed herself for not being strong enough to so much as move him an inch.

“Girl, you best fuckin’ take that shit off, for I make you.” There was a venom in his tone. She knew he meant it, but she found herself letting her eyes drift to his lips and she couldn’t help that her breathing picked up. Maybe she had underestimated who was the wounded animal here. She had an avenue toward his door, but his eyes held her still.

“Go ahead, either way you’r’ sitting your’ ass down.” She sassed back, her mouth and brain no longer in communication with each other. She inhaled sharply through her nose when his crossbow dung into her back. The wall he crowded her into did little for her shaking breaths. She knew he was serious, but so was she. Her palm was gently sliding across his right cheek before he’d so much as grabbed the hand she had death gripped on the strap across her chest. She found a petty sort of victory wind its way to her lips as he jumped backward. Yup, she knew exactly what he’d do to that.

It seemed he figured that out to when she saw him inhale deeply through his nose more than once. She found it a bit cute the way his nostrils flared and he tried to find words around the obvious anger choking him. She watched as his shoulders shook, and he moved his weight from foot to foot. Half formed curse words and insults were flying around the quiet space as he looked at anything but her. She knew if anyone else loomed over her in such a small space she’d have panicked. There was an impending threat of bloodshed in his every movement, and yet she let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. His half-muttered words on stupid blondes stung just a bit too much.

“Sit down and I’ll take it off…please? You’re hurt, Daryl.” She knew there was a little of her emotional pain tinging her own voice but she tried not to hide it as much as she wanted. Daryl didn’t like it when any of them were in pain. He’d vanish the second a woman started crying. She knew it was manipulative and so did he, but a sad smile worked its way upward when he huffed and gave in.

He ran his hand down his forehead and leaned his arms on his knees, but he sat down. She mirrored his huff as she pulled the leather strap, she’d all but memorized, over her head and gently tilted the crossbow against the wall. Being sure to point the arrow still poised in the string toward the ground she watched as his shoulders slumped. The deadly way he’d shifted his weight all but vanished when her hand left the weapon and it was a bit overwhelming to see his anger evaporate so quickly. She’d need to think about that later, she was sure. But for now, a single step away from the wall took her to the bowl of water she’d so painstakingly carried up the stairs. She wrung the washcloth out without thought.

“What the fuck, you think you doin’ Greene?” He accused, jerking his head away from where she’d taken it into her hands. Another sigh left her lips as she dropped the washcloth back into the bowl with a pointed look to his fidget. His knees brushed her own and it was everything she could do to keep herself from staring at the pain she just now heard in his voice. She knew after he chain smoked, he achieved the same level of rasp but she itched to sooth it this time.

“If you don’t clean this, you’re gonna have a problem.” She tried to coax by lowering her voice much the way she did Judith. _Baby bird_. _Baby bird_. _Baby bird_. She tried to chant in her mind as she took a calming breath against her own anger.

“I’n clean myself up. Been doin’ it all my damn life, Girl. Get the fuck to gettin’.” He snapped when she wrung out the washcloth once more and despite herself, she found herself following him.

“They hurt you!” She snapped louder than she wanted, putting her back to him as the confession came tumbling out of her lips. “They nearly killed you and I just want to make it go away.” She whined, the cloth in her hands straining under the force of her grip.

“Girl, I ain’t worth the worry, just g…” he started, but even as she heard the resigned annoyance in his tone, she couldn’t help that all of his rejection bubbled back to the surface.

“You’re hurting me.” She admitted, barely over a whisper in the hopes he both would and wouldn’t hear it. It seemed he did when whatever he’d been about to tell her to do, died on his lips. She couldn’t face him then, all of the conflicting thoughts the last weeks were baring down on her. But mostly there was guilt. He was sitting behind her caked in his own blood. Rick’s blood was soaked into his clothes. If that wasn’t enough evidence of the hell, he’d just been through, the days mud was still clinging to him in every conceivable spot. Then there was her. She was pushing. And damn she hated herself for it. She was pushing him to give her that inch she’d wanted because now she needed it.

“Girl, what the fuck you on about?” He sighed, and she nearly cursed as he threw his knee out to bump the back of her leg when the silence began to crush them.

“I care, Daryl. You can tell us all to fuck off but we care.” She found the words spilling out of her mouth, releasing the cloth she’d been strangling with a squish. Throwing her hands to either side of the filing cabinet to hang onto something she ignored the way his knee settled into the back of hers.

“Greene, that ain’t…” He started, but Beth was done. She was done with this dance they were doing. He was sitting here, bleeding. He had been dragged, literally, through hell. And if she had to stomach embarrassment for the rest of eternity, she was going to do it. There was to much pain now that she’d proven to herself, he would jump from her. She had to feel for herself that he was okay. But he didn’t even trust her enough not to keep his crossbow…

“Why can’t you just let me help you?” She knew her voice broke as it was all she could do not to cry. She was determined not to cry. She wasn’t that person. She’d seen her family ripped apart in front of her. She lived at the end of the world. This is not what would break her. She told him she didn’t cry anymore and she meant it. That didn’t mean her heart didn’t shatter when they fell back into silence. She heard him fidget behind her, but she ground her fingers into the night cooled metal beneath them.

“Give me this, Daryl. Please? Just let me…be sure you’re okay. The ropes are still…” _Tied to the truck_. She tried to explain even as her voice hitched. And no, she was not going to cry. She was fucking determined she was not going to cry.

“Fine, Girl. You ain’t got ‘nough blood today, go for it.” He sassed but Beth found her head whipping backward to finally look in his direction. He didn’t seem able to do the same, his eyes focused on the privacy curtain to his left. There was an overwhelming tension in the air around him but even as her hands shook in the bowl once more, he didn’t look up. She hesitated that one step between them, guilt eating away at her. How could she be so selfish? He didn’t want this and yet she brought the cloth down over the clay in his hair. She stopped when he flinched away from her, because how could she not. There were no words for this. There was nothing she could do to explain how much this both hurt and comforted her.

Reaching slowly back toward his face she wrapped her unoccupied hand around her stomach so she wouldn’t touch him. It seemed to help him settle a bit when she slid the cloth back down the right side of his hair. She’d been right that he hadn’t managed to dislodge all of the clay, but she shook again at the remains of blood she found under it. It wasn’t his thankfully, but she found herself biting her lower lip against the urge to break. No, she was not going to break. Daryl gave her permission to touch him. It was all she’d wanted for weeks.

Her eyes were watering and there was nothing she could do but curse herself as a single tear squeaked past her resolve. Breathing heavily in through her nose she set about her task as softly as she dared. She felt another tear she was loath to stop slide down her right cheek when he didn’t flinch a second time and the line of blood from his ear was deposited into the now pink tinged water. She knew she was shaking fairly hard then only because Daryl’s right hand closed around her left hip.

“I’m fine, Beth.” He sighed, his fingers digging into the curve of her hip with a gentle tug forward. She stepped between his knees at the invitation but kept her traitorous left hand wrapped around her stomach. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be fine. Because now that she was looking for any ache to sooth, she could see the friction burns on the wrist he had coaxing her.

Her left hand came off her stomach and she couldn’t help but to be the one that flinched when she pushed his now clean hair from the side of his face. His eyes were finally meeting her own and she wasn’t sure just what she saw there. He wasn’t comfortable, that she knew by the small frown that seemed to be stuck there. But his eyes were swimming and she made herself stop shaking. It took a great deal of effort to squash the selfish loathing of her actions. His thumb finding the sliver of skin between her jeans and the soft yellow shirt she was wearing did wonders for that.

She was batting his over grown bangs and running her knuckle over the scruff of his beard before she could stop herself. She gently worked the cloth down the side of his neck, afraid she’d hurt him. It took a bit more scrubbing than she wanted to do, but she found he was more distracted by the thumb she ran over his jaw to angle him to the light. His teeth were grinding under her touch but she only stopped a moment as his left hand closed in on her right hip. It was hard to keep her focus on his discomfort with the ease settling back into her bones. His hands were as sturdy as ever. But she knew he was uncomfortable with this.

Perhaps she wasn’t hurting him quite as much as she thought, when his thumbs continued their maddening circles, but she saw the way his teeth continued to grind. She tried to run her own thumb the way he was his, but it seemed to have little effect. If anything, the tension in his shoulders seemed to grow. She couldn’t do this to him, even if it helped her broken heart glue piece by piece. He wasn’t okay, but he was alive. She could feel that in the way his breathing hitched and hear it in his jaw.

“Thank you. You look better now.” She sighed, but made no move to leave the safety of his presence. Instead she dropped the cloth into the bowl, knowing he was far from done with it tonight. Setting her hands on his shoulders she ignored the flakiness of his day. She was hunched over to place a kiss to his forehead before she could let another tear escape because damn it, she was not going to cry. And she needed to get out of there before she did, but for the first time it seemed Daryl wasn’t ready to let her go. She found a gasp get caught in the back of her throat as she was pulled back the half step, she’d not known she’d taken. She heard the heavy exhale of his sigh before her heart stopped beating.

The forehead she’d just run a light kiss over found her sternum and it was all she could do not to sob. Her arms came up automatically to cradle his head to her. Winding her fingers into his damp hair she clenched her eyes shut against the tears. She did not cry anymore but damn it if Daryl wasn’t going to tear her inside out. His hands left her hips as he settled his arms around her instead. He locked his wrists just above her tail bone as she listened to his heavy inhale. And she couldn’t help the sob that bubbled out of her. Because there was a deep patch of road rash peaking up from under the torn vest at his neck. She wasn’t even sure if she was crying for him, or for her anymore. Because it seemed once she let that one sound out, she couldn’t stop the rest.

She tried not to. Damn she tried so hard not to turn into a sobbing mess in Daryl’s arms, but she could do little more than duck her head over his. His hair tickled her nose as she found her lungs inflating to quickly. She wanted so badly to make this go away. To go back to simply wondering about her teenage fantasies.

It was all she could do not to crawl behind him on his bunk and pull his shirt over his head. Instead she pulled his hair as hard as she dared closer toward her. Everything in her twitched to take away the pain the grooves of whited out leather spoke of. She wanted to bat the gravel from his skin with her lips. Anything to just make him better. She couldn’t take all this pain to the ones she loved. Judith, then Rick, and now him. She wasn’t strong enough for this.

She clung to him as best she could without suffocating him into her chest, but it seemed he either didn’t notice or care as the minutes dragged on. She turned her face to press her cheek where her nose had landed in his hair, her breathing leveling out slowly. Running her fingers through his hair was so incredibly soothing but she continued to squeeze her eyes as tightly as she could.  


It was then she could feel the way his breath tingled against her. The way his arms were steady and still locked around her hips as if she might fall. And truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was going to or not. Because it was a whiplash of emotion to find that with every exhale from his lips a shot worked its way through the breast it landed on.

“Did I hurt you?” She found herself asking, unwilling to move but knowing she needed to retreat. This was to much for her right now. She could not handle the squirming of her lower abdomen in addition to her desperate embarrassment. And she was embarrassed. Heat was flooding her cheeks as he finally moved his forehead from her overheated sternum. She removed her hands from his hair to wipe hurriedly at the tear stains on her cheeks. She couldn’t look at him yet. Not after she’d just completely fallen apart on him even if she felt his eyes burning her. This was not what he needed from her.

“Nah Girl. You’r’ like a fuckin’ indoor cat. Ca’in’t hurt shit, ya tried.” There was a smirk in his tone that made her feel like chancing a glance down. And sure enough, it seemed he found their current situation entirely too funny for the tear stains still marring her face. But it wasn’t until he grimaced that she was able to hold his gaze instead of study his face. His left shoulder popped audibly as he retracted his arms from around her. But she wiped harder at the tear stains when he put his hands back on both of her hips instead of shove her off of him.

They stayed like that longer than she thought he would let her, but even as he reached around her to his pack five minutes later, she swayed. Without both of his hands anchoring her she worried she might just fall apart on him again. She was rubbing his left shoulder before he’d even leaned back around her, and she didn’t miss how his knees locked around both her shins. A deep emotional and physical exhaustion was lingering around them as she ran her fingers over his undoubtedly sore muscles.

“Now, ya fuckin’ take this and do what ya was fuckin’ told. Get. I’m to fuckin’ tired for your shit caring.” And while his words were biting, Beth couldn’t help but stare at the tired resignation in the small smirk quirking his lips. She huffed good naturedly for him, her muscles now seemingly liquefied in relief. She didn’t watch as he pulled her pocket toward him. And no, she was not going to think about how that was his favorite pocket again. She rolled her eyes as two strips of jerky landed awkwardly beside the one she’d never eaten earlier. But it was the sharp sting of his palm landing heavily on her backside that had her moving.

Her eyes widened as his knees unlocked from her legs and she swayed backward again. Did he just? There was a heady heat working its way up her spine from the fading sting of her surprise that cemented the narrowing of her eyes. Yes, Daryl Dixon had just slapped her ass and if it had been any other day, she’d have opened her mouth and let him have it. It seemed he knew it to because there was a heart-warming chuckle coming from behind his smirk.

“Daryl.” She tried to scold but even as she said it, she couldn’t stop the heat that flooded her veins and face.

“Get Greene.” He nodded his head toward the privacy screen meaningfully but Beth found all she could do was blush. “You want a fuckin’ ‘nother? I said get.” Her feet moved against her will because what she wasn’t willing to admit was that yes…yes, she wanted him to do that again. And that was what she was going to chose to focus on. That and he was still alive for her to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter were supposed to be one, but this got away from me. It's a Fuck kinda day for Daryl. We're getting there. Beth just obliterated that inch...and maybe that flinch too.


	4. Sixteen Days

Was there going to be a way to make this less awkward? She had fallen apart in Daryl’s arms for crying out loud, she should be able to look him in the eye the day after! And yet just the thought of seeing Daryl was making her cheeks flush over her oatmeal. If she’d thought her feelings for Daryl were confusing before she had no idea which direction was up anymore. The only thing she knew was even injured he would be up soon. The gentle hum of breakfast could almost lull her into believing everything was normal. And yet if she dragged her head up, she would drown in the depression hovering at the absence of the entire Grimes family.

But her every thought seemed to belong to Daryl Dixon and his maddening arms. His guilt inducing, fire enabling, steady as stone, arms. Because his hands weren’t enough for her to obsess over now. Now she knew what it felt like to be fully engulfed in those arms of his. She’d thought she’d known what it was like to hug Daryl. She’d been so wrong. And if that wasn’t perhaps the most intimate experience of her life, she didn’t know what to call it.

Her fumbling in the hay loft before the world went to the undead felt like nothing compared to the gentle exhale of Daryl’s breath. She had loved Jimmy. At least she thought she had, until the weight of Daryl’s head had beat the entire world away. The way Jimmy had kissed her replayed often in her daydreams. She’d tried and retrace his fingers on her skin often enough. Even when Zach had taken her aside and asked to be her boyfriend, she doubted she’d felt this horrible gut twisting. She’d shared maybe five kisses with Zach, and yet still it wasn’t either of them she’d fantasized about all night. It wasn’t the sting of Zach’s hand she’d run her fingers over for hours, only managing to further drive sleep from herself. No, neither of them had been able to unhinge her with a simple touch the way Daryl did. Which was not helping the undeniable guilt twisting her into knots this morning.

She’d pushed him last night and that was the furthest thing from fair. She’d cornered him and really what did she expect him to do when she begged him like that? Daryl was one of the kindest men she’d ever known and even if she hadn’t known it then, she did now. She’d taken advantage of that. She hadn’t meant to, because she would never want to hurt him like that but she had backed him into a corner. She was only lucky he cared about her, otherwise she knew he’d have taken off her head. No one cornered Daryl Dixon and didn’t they have enough to worry about than her feelings?

Rick was still struggling in the infirmary and Judith was still fighting the damp prison through the night, but the overwhelming comfort of Daryl’s embrace had banished everything. All night she had tried to think of anything but the way her world was reduced to nothing in his arms. How she had crumbled in his hold was still singing through her nerves. The sheer safety she had felt to fall apart. Nothing could ever replace the feeling of his hair sliding through her fingers as she’d reassured herself, he really was alive. And since when did she need to reassure herself of that?

How could he do this to her and not even know what he did? Did he know what he was doing? How much she just needed him to be alive? Because even now as she pushed around the soggy mess in front of her, she could feel the power in his grasp the night before. His grip had left nothing but a memory but it was emblazed on her skin even now. How did he go from yelling at her about his crossbow, from lashing out, to holding her as if the world wasn’t collapsing? And why did the world stop being on fire when he did?

But the truth was the world was actually ablaze, and she couldn’t spend the day as she’d spent last night. Deciding to avoid meeting Daryl’s eyes, she reached her feet and made to wash her breakfast down the sink. She hated to waste food, but the unease in her stomach was apparently not going to let go.

She knew those soft but labored steps coming down the stairs. Even the small added extra sound in his footfalls, usually absolutely silent, was enough to see he was in a lot of pain. And she had added to that. Which was perhaps why she found herself washing the rest of the dishes in the sink and refusing to turn in his direction. Carol was quietly fussing over the man behind her shoulder and Beth didn’t think she should do the same. She could hear the sharp rasp of his muttered replies to the woman’s questions but she stubbornly kept her eyes on her hands. No, she had pushed last night and she wouldn’t do it again.

Even as she steeled herself against turning to see him, she could hear the way her own voice had broken. The memory was enough for her to slip with the sponge in her hand. She muttered a quiet curse no one would hear at the sharp drag of dried oatmeal against her palm. He didn’t deserve to be burdened with all her feelings. He had so much to do to keep them all safe. Daryl had been dragged through hell yesterday and she’d only made it worse. She threw the sponge into the sink before she realized she wasn’t alone. The splash was to similar to the cloth she’d held in her hands the night before. When she’d taken comfort, she didn’t have a right to.

“What it ever do ta you?” Daryl’s raspy chuckle grated her ears. Closing her eyes against both embarrassment and shame, she grimaced. She found her fingers gripping the counter and the hard edge of the stainless-steel sink pressed against her abdomen.

“Good morning. How…How are you feeling?” She tried but even as she winced at the way her voice broke, she refused to turn around and meet the eyes burning into the tension of her shoulders. He had to be mad at her. There was no way, after what she’d done last night, he wouldn’t be. He’d flinched so hard. And even if it hurt, she would respect that now. Unlike last night because she should know better than to back Daryl into a corner.

“Like I been dancin’ wit’ a walker.” He humored her, another soft chuckle escaping as the sound traveled up and down her spine.

“Might as well.” She tried to joke, an absurdly high volume escaping her in the false pep. Her shoulders rose unnaturally high in her attempt to laugh off his misfortune. The unhealthy sound in her tone seemed to ignite another rasping cough of a laugh from behind her. Beth wasn’t proud of flinching but she managed to keep her hands from going numb in her grip of the sink. Until a gentle pull of her ponytail had her head following the movement. Her eyes snapped open at the tiny jerk and instinct had her turning her head to meet Daryl’s frown. Her eyes widened as she came to realize just how close he was actually standing to her.

If she so much as swayed backward, she’d find herself back in his arms and the flush she’d been trying to stop, worked its way up the back of her neck. Half a step…If she moved half a step, she could find her shoulders fitting against the leather of his chest. But she’d taken more than that half step last night against his wishes. Ducking her head, she hummed, unable to meet his gentle gaze any longer than a second. The guilt was crippling but she found the bright red peaking out from under his collared button down did more for her depression.

“You good?” He rasped, tugging the end of her hair gently once more as she was well aware at least one of his fingers was still tangled in her split ends. The lighthearted tug was seemingly meant to get an answer but produced nothing save a need for her to sharply breath through her nose. How was she supposed to answer that? The truth was no, she was not okay. He was so confusing she wanted to both shove him away and pull him that half step at the same time. She was trying not to let the heat of her neck migrate up to her cheeks as she gave him a noncommittal shrug.

Turning back to the empty sink she tried to busy the hands she unclenched from the it with a wince at the audible snap. Wiping the it down with the sponge she’d thrown, Beth was very much aware that Daryl didn’t move away at the invitation to let himself out of her space.

This was his chance to put everything back the way it had been. She had to give him that. The sponge in her hands was chaffing under her heavy swipes but she was determined. No, Daryl was too polite to say anything and she wasn’t going to make this worse. Even if everything in her didn’t want him to just pat her shoulder and walk away. It would save her a thousand days of embarrassment.

Instead she jumped, her left hip hitting the counter painfully as she found his hand enclosing around the opposite one. She managed one deep breath before it all went away and she squeaked a soft curse. All the tension in her seemed to melt and it wasn’t fair but so incredibly welcome.

She lost the fight against her blush as she let him sway her weight without another thought. It was to incredibly easy to lean her upper body into the warmth of him. Not a single muscle in her rejected the motion. There no instinct in her to fight his proximity. Even as she let her head fall onto his left shoulder and found her eyes closing in the same motion. His displaced hand found the dull ache she’d just given herself against the sink but the only pain left seemed to be that small kernel of guilt. The sobering ache at the knowledge that she’d taken this last night refused to be soothed. But as his thumbs once more began their maddening circles on the slip of skin exposed to him, she found her lips twitch and her breathing became slow and almost panicked through her nose.

“I’m sorry.” She grimaced, the apology tumbling from her lips before she realized she’d put her hands over his. His hands twitched under hers as the warmth gently sinking into her spine seemed to harden with the rest of his frame. Her ear was so close to his jaw she winced at the grinding of his teeth, even if she tried not to think about sliding her cheek across his stubble. Clenching her eyes shut against the urge to be a coward, Beth gripped his hands as tight as she dared when he made to move away. Digging her head into his shoulder she let the pain of her jammed ponytail ground her.

“I…I backed you into a corner and I didn’t mean…” Her voice broke despite herself and she found her knees shaking just enough to truly need the steadying wall of him at her back. Her heart and breathing refused to calm as they stood there, both now coiled in a tense standoff. But as the silence dragged neither seemed to know what to say. Beth found her fingernails digging into the flesh of his hands, everything in her waiting to be released and dreading it.

“Ya didn’t fuckin’ maul me, Girl. It’s fine.” Daryl sighed, but Beth found her knees shaking again as his words were entirely to close to her right ear.

“But…” She tried even as she fought with herself not to push the rest of her weight against the solidness behind her.

“Ya think ya can take advantage of me, Greene? That’s’ almos’ fuckin’ cute.” He taunted, an almost sinister undertone in his short chuckle making her flinch. Her back arched away from his warmth out of instinct even if her head remained heavy on his shoulder.

“It ain’t…” He sighed, his fingers squeezing into her as if she’d forgotten they were there even as his voice gentled. “You’r’…caring ain’t my normal…that ain’t mean I…fuck it.” He swore, his hands throwing hers off and Beth found herself coiling inward again. Crossing her arms against the sharp sting of his rejection she raised her head with a jerk but found she couldn’t further move to protect herself.

The counter cut into her lower abdomen with a blunt ache as she was shifted forward. Reaching outward to catch the sudden shift of weight she closed her fingers around the concrete, her elbows locking on either side of her. But it was the added weight of Daryl’s chin on her shoulder that dragged a ragged breath from her lungs. His head was followed quickly by the firmness of his forearms. She refused to open her eyes as his right arm wound its way around her hips and she sagged into his hold. Letting her head fall forward she rested her chin on the unyielding muscle of his left arm curving around her shoulders.

The gentleness of his hold eased the guilt in her and she suspected that was why he chose to move forward the step she couldn’t take. The dread was gone in a single moment and Beth almost whined at how unfair it was that this simple thing was all it took. She’d worried about this all night and she’d wanted his affection so much it hurt that now it almost didn’t seem real. Was this truly happening? The sturdy, if not tense, set of his arms was evidence enough of the present but Beth found herself nuzzling her cheek into the soft strands of his arm before she could think about it. She wasn’t prepared for the jerk of his right arm in response. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, Beth knew her breath turned ragged, her hips sliding in an altogether to pleasant manner.

Feeling the unease in his muscles, she silently begged him to say something but as she took a few calming breaths she knew it was a lost cause. Because she couldn’t find herself saying anything either. Instead all she could do was blush and try to get her breathing under control. He was making an effort not to crush her under the weight of his upper body but it was the gentle drag of his jeans across the back of her that had her stomach jumping. She could only continue trying to level her breathing, but there was nothing she could do to unleash the death grip of her jaw. But even her lungs still refused to cooperate, as Daryl’s exhale tickled her ear. Her heart fluttered against the pressure of her ribs at the rhythmic tightening of his arms. She could do little but revel in the way he seemed to flex himself around her, his muscles both tensing and relaxing, seemingly almost unsure of himself. The heat of his body did nothing for the wave of shivers that worked down her spine and settled into her lower abdomen in response.

“Breathe.” He chuckled gruffly, the rumbling echoing across her shoulder blades and indignation flared to life against the butterflies swimming in her every nerve. Her right hand came off the now sweaty concrete to slap the arm around her shoulders. It hit her instantly. He knew. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing to the lower part of her and that was almost worse than anything she could imagine he’d have said.

Throwing his arms off of her she turned swiftly, anger overtaking any residual shivers in her spine as it straightened. Shoving him backward she frowned, to angry to acknowledge he let her shove him. She found herself turning a glare in his direction when he didn’t so much as duck his head. He didn’t acknowledge her glare, even as his arms crossed and he regarded her with an even expression of calm.

“Fine. I’m fine. You’r’ fine. Everythin’s fine.” Beth ground out, crossing her arms to mirror him as his eyebrow rose. An infuriating smirk seemed to be twitching at the corner of his lips as she could do little but continue to blush.

“Men.” She huffed, turning on her heel to retrieve the sponge from the sink, unsure if she wanted to throw it at him or not. When another gravely chuckle grated her ears, she squeezed the water and suds between her fingers as tightly as she dared. The urge to throw something was decidedly intense.

Embarrassment was continuing to keep her cheeks red, but she could do little but turn her head away from the breath that returned to her right ear. She huffed, fidgeting as his arm returned around her waist. She almost missed the flinching he’d done last night at the new casualness with which he took in unhinging her. Because even now, knowing he understood what his touch did to her nerves, she still couldn’t find it in herself to throw him off again. She sighed, shaking her head out of his grasp as he tugged her ponytail playfully. His sudden fascination with pulling her hair was annoying to say the least. But her face would never be the same color again, she was sure of it.

“Relax, girl. It’s flatterin’…” He finally spoke, flipping her hair again when she refused to meet his eyes once more. Nope, she’d done that once and now the embarrassment was never going to go away. She was not going to turn in his direction.

“Look, I ain’t a…I know it ain’t…” He sighed, seeming to stumble on the right words once more but Beth could do little but curse the arm around her waist.

“I know it ain’t teenage bullshit, okay? Last… I just ain’t used to…Jesus Christ, Girl, what the fuck you want me to say to make this shit better? I ain’t give a shit okay? Just put your fuckin’ hand back.” He snapped and Beth found her eyes widening as the sponge was thrown into the sink from under her fingers. She turned her head a fraction toward him against her will, startled at the wet slap of her hand against the back of his arm. His fingers burned into her wrist before letting go, and despite the command drudging up her indignation she found herself leaving her hand where he laid it. Throwing her eyes up to the ceiling in a huff of irritation, she couldn’t help shake her head.

“Who’s’ fuckin’ cornered now?” His heavy exhale was blessedly not directly over her ear lobe then, but Beth found she could do little more than sag against his arm and grind her teeth. The man was entirely to endearing even in anger and she wanted so much to be mad at him, but found she couldn’t. He was right, and turnabout was fair play. After all, she hadn’t exactly made it a secret with the bright red hue of her face betraying her. But still, embarrassment swirled with the comfort of his now agonizingly tight grip.

“Daryl…” She tried to start, her shoulders slumping. How was it only breakfast when all the energy in her seemed to have evaporated.

“We good, Greene?” He cut her off and she rubbed the bridge of her nose before she could answer him. They really needed to have this conversation. They needed to discuss what exactly they were doing. How long had he known what he was doing to her? Did she have any kind of effect on him? What did he actually want from her? From this? What was this? All of those questions needed to be answered if they were going to truly be good, but if she was honest, she wasn’t ready for the answers. It didn’t seem he was either as she attempted to open her mouth again and was tugged for her efforts.

“Yes…as long as you’re not mad at me.” She sighed, last nights guilt now seeming like the furthest thing from her mind. She snorted, swatting him with her ponytail as he once more pulled on it playfully. She was going to slap him if he kept that up and she did owe him one. But while she knew he wanted her to look at him, she couldn’t. The adrenaline of her anger had faded to quickly under his reassurances. But her stomach managed to twist and her heart ached painfully as it skipped a beat.

The gentle and feather light glide of his lips behind her ear had her releasing an emotion filled exhale of air. She closed her eyes as his arm disappeared from around her and just as she was able to truly believe the itch of where his lips had ghosted her skin, he was gone. Sagging against the sink, Beth didn’t have to look up to know he had fled the kitchen. And she knew they were far from good even as she hoisted herself up onto the counter in an attempt to settle herself. At least, she reassured herself, they had been alone since it seemed everyone had long gone about their business. Something she needed to do, but wasn’t sure how she was going to.

Forcing herself through the drudge of work at the prison didn’t help her mood, but she managed a smile for Rick when he rejoined the family for dinner. No one was willing to bring up that he was heavily favoring one side, or the swelling of his left eye, but it was good to see him up. It seemed to do more to calm their family than her father’s reassurances had been able to. It also seemed to settle Carl enough to relinquish his sister to her arms, and for that she was grateful. But not wanting to take the youngest Grimes to far from her family, Beth contented herself with sitting on the table playing peek-a-boo most of the meal.

Though just as she knew she had Judith’s eye she couldn’t help but feel the heavy gaze on her back. She knew it wasn’t fair of her. She’d told herself repeatedly he’d throw her off him. That he was too old for her. That he understood more of the world than she did, but still her heart refused to listen. She just needed a Daryl free day, but damn it if they didn’t live in a literal prison.

Yet, she was clinging onto the fact that he hadn’t seemed disgusted by the idea of her desire. If anything, he’d been understanding, but even still she refused to look at Daryl. Flattering, that was what he’d called it, but what did that actually mean? Still, she knew, that wasn’t what she had wanted to hear. She couldn’t find it in herself to look at him, knowing her secret admiration wasn’t so secret anymore. Half the prison was hooking up and she tried to reassure herself she should not feel bad about the way he made her feel but it was hard with so many questions up in the air. Everything about Daryl Dixon was a giant question mark and she wanted so badly to just forget his gentle hold for even a second.

Though even as she grew more and more exhausted, bouncing Judith, Daryl seemed to know yet again just what he did to her. Normally, Judith was all it took to shake off these feelings of dejection. She could coat her heart in the young girls love as easy as a warm familiar blanket, but today she couldn’t find it in her. Until the damn man perplexing her, pulled her ponytail yet again and she turned to swat him without a single hesitation. Rick laughed at them, as her palm connected with Daryl’s bicep, which came with the knowledge that once again that day he was far closer than she realized. She couldn’t help but grimace as she finally met his gaze over Judith’s head. He looked rougher than he had that morning. The sweat of work outside was matting down his hair and she itched to push it away from his eyes.

“I just wanted to know if you’d take Judith tonight?” Rick asked, his voice the quality of gravel for what seemed to be the second time by the way he rose an eyebrow.

“Oh, of course.” She shrugged, tickling the girl in her arms for good measure. Judith’s giggle of a laugh echoed around them. Focusing on that giggle managed to relax her just a bit. Daryl’s gentle nudge at her hip didn’t hurt either.

No, maybe they weren’t on the same page, but could she really blame him? He’d asked her, well made her, put her hand back on his arm that morning. It wasn’t what she wanted but, maybe it was enough until they could answer all the questions. Until they were both ready to acknowledge that something had changed, she could be okay with what they had. After all, he wasn’t going to stop touching her, as evidenced by the lack of space between his shoulder and her hip. So maybe she just needed to dial it down. And hadn’t she already thought that days ago?

But the memory of how they’d left that morning had her trailing her hand over his shoulders as she passed him with Judith once dinner was over. There were to many emotions involved in all of this, but at the heart of her she was anchored by the desire to just be with him. She needed to make sure he was alive, and she didn’t hurt him. After all, that had been her only goal for the last twenty-four hours.  
She didn’t miss the way he exhaled, or the way his shoulders loosened under the weight of her hand. And it seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling out of sorts. Readjusting Judith on her hip she sighed. Flicking his ear seemed to be enough retribution for her mood and it had the added bonus of making her family laugh. No, they could stay here. Maybe it wasn’t what she wanted, but as Daryl rolled her eyes at her and tossed his back into her hip playfully, she could be okay with it for now. The butterflies wouldn’t go away, but at least she didn’t have to hide them anymore.

*********

  
_Sixteen days_. Her mostly happy bubble had lasted sixteen days. She’d had sixteen days of playful shoves and lingering squeezes since she’d nearly sabotaged whatever they were doing before it even had a chance to start. And it was doing nothing but good things for her mood even now.

The only drawback seemed to be the lingering ache, being in Daryl’s presence was constantly leaving in her. And perhaps her new daily shower habit wasn’t helping, but she could only reasonably spend so much time in her bunk. If she’d thought he could turn her inside out when she had to hide how much she enjoyed his attention, now she could only blush. Even Maggie was starting to notice to her annoyance, but Beth refused to duck her head in embarrassment any longer. Admittedly it had taken three or four days for her to stop twitching at Daryl’s touch, but one well timed joke had wiped that away.

Running a hand over her head, Beth rinsed the shampoo from her hair as she found her lips quirking. It was easy when she knew it shouldn’t be. After all they’d been avoiding answering any questions forever now, but she was not about to lose their…friendship…relationship…whatever she could call it. She wanted a word, but not at the expense of Daryl. Though the boundaries he was sticking to on her skin were starting to drive her crazy again. A sigh left her lips as she let her eyes trail over Judith, asleep in the car seat Beth had strapped her into before getting in the shower. Reassured that the baby was asleep, Beth turned to put her head against the tile she’d taken to cleaning more regularly the last weeks.

The water was colder than she thought it had a right to be, but since they were firmly in fall now, she let it chase Daryl’s hands away. Which she found worked fairly well most days. Most everyone didn’t see a need to shower everyday anymore and she didn’t blame them. It seemed as if she just got dirty five minutes later with the amount of sweat inducing work, they all did to keep the prison going. She certainly did her fair share of gardening being a former farm girl, but where everyone else resigned themselves to the daily grit lingering, she couldn’t. Maggie teased her about vanity, and Carl called her names like Prissy, but even now a flush was working up her neck. What would they say if they knew it wasn’t the world she was washing off, but Daryl?

And no matter how cold the water seemed today; it wasn’t working. Even as the chilly drops smoothed down her back the heat of his hands was teasing her. Tracing the circles, he’d all but branded into her hips, a sigh escaped her. She wasn’t sure if the shiver that worked its way across her stomach was from the water or the closing of her eyes. He was behind her eye lids even now as she ran her own hands where his teased. Crossing her arms, Beth ran her finger tips up and down the water droplets clinging to her skin. Another muted sigh escaped as she played his imagine around her. His safe and strong arms that never seemed to waver were always a contrast to her knees that even now shook.

Clenching her thighs with another sigh, Beth jammed her head into the tile. Moving her hands to hug herself instead she threw her head again into the tile. No, this was supposed to help. Not continue to feed the heat she harbored. Which was incredibly frustrating as she knew it was only a matter of time before she was supposed to help with lunch.

She cursed Daryl silently. It never did seem fair she was in here and he didn’t seem to share her problems. Which if she was honest, still hurt, but even that was not enough to erase the way he’d slid his entire body across her back on the balcony this morning. His hands finding her sides…If Maggie had known what she’d done by leaving such a small space for Daryl to pass the talking sisters, Beth knew she’d have been mortified. She was getting pretty good at starving off her blush. Of course, Daryl could have simply asked her to move.

Resigned to her fate, as it seemed nothing short of her own fingers was going to sear his touch from her singing nerves, she dropped her protective embrace. Rubbing her forehead once against the sting she’d put there; she braced her left hand against the wall. Her other traced the sensitive flesh of her hip once more before she let herself give into the temptation. But it wasn’t her intake of breath that pierced her ears.

Snapping her head up, Beth reached for the pile of clothes she’d left on the half wall to her right. The gun was in her hands before her heart could restart from the fear. Spinning on her heel she let instinct guide her arms to lock into the position Shane had taught her so long ago on the farm.

Half a second saved his life. Not enough time for her to curse. It wasn’t even enough time for her to consciously realize that sound hadn’t come from a walker. But she managed to jerk her hands upward, even as she pulled the trigger in that half a second her eyes looked over the room. The echoing of the gun shot was deafening as the bullet ripped through the faded blue locker…three inches from the head of the Woodbury boy now sinking to the ground.

Adrenaline surged through her now heaving lungs as Judith’s scream tore through sounds of crunching metal as if in slow motion. Everything seemed to slow as her eyes widened in utter shock. The aching she’d been trying to sooth was thankfully gone, but as Beth stared into the widened eyes of the kid before her, it was all she could do to breath. Water was now pounding the back of her neck, but as her heart beat in her ears it was barely registering.

“What…” She tried, the gun heavy in her hands as her words were drowned out by both the shower and Judith’s screaming which was ringing in time with the ricocheting of the bullet she’d fired. She should do something. She needed to…what did she need to do right then? It seemed the only thing she could do was stare at the boy who seemed to be in just as much shock as she was. What was his name? Hadn’t she seen him around the courtyard with his mother? No, the blonde boy belonged to was his grandmother. But the gun was heavy in her hand when she finally startled out of some of her shock at the slamming of a door.

His crossbow entered her vision first. A sight blurred by water as she found herself stumbling to put her back against the wall. Her startled and wide eyes watched as his traced her from the sights of his weapon. Her lungs refused to inflate at his pause before she watched him then sweep over Judith. Keeping her gun up as the days on the road had taught her, she found she could only continue to watch as he swung himself between her and the boy she’d almost killed.

The wings on his back were the only thing she registered a moment before everything was rushing back to her. She clamped her left hand to her mouth to stop the mortified sound bubbling in her burning lungs from escaping. Her entire body flushed in sudden understanding of her circumstances. Of what he’d just seen and her very soul threatened to explode. Her legs gave out before Judith’s screaming could continue to rattle her ears. Bringing her arms around herself the best she could in a pathetic attempt to protect herself from anyone else’s gaze she all but dropped her gun into a puddle.

“I almost killed him. I almost killed him!” She shook her head even as she tried to draw her knees further into her chest and twist herself more fully into the wall.

“Still time ta. Little shit.” Daryl cursed, but even through the threat she saw the arrow he had ready dip away from the boy’s head. What was he twelve, thirteen? But it seemed even if Daryl had meant it as a joke, she couldn’t find it in herself to do more than throw her hands over her ears. His voice was ringing. Why was it ringing? Her eyes registered his movement even if she wanted desperately not to hear Judith screaming anymore. Her feet twitched in the baby’s direction, but the now freezing cold water starkly reminded her of her current predicament.

“Stand up.” Daryl’s gentle coax startled her after she realized he’d moved across the room to crouch in front of her. There was an unfamiliar look in his gaze she wasn’t sure if she liked. It was to close to how she looked at Judith, or as she imagined someone would look at a baby deer. His crossbow now strung across his back as she followed the move of his left hand and it shut off the freezing cold soaking them both. Shaking her head before her brain caught up to the white towel in his hands, she did little more than exhale through her nose.

“I already...Tha entire prison ‘bout to be in here. Beth.” And despite that horrifying knowledge, Beth found herself latching onto the calm and gentle texture of his voice. Even as her face flushed and he attempted to hold out the scratchy cotton the only thing she found herself anchoring onto was his calm. He gently balanced a corner on her left knee before she found her legs straightening.  
“Thank you.” She whispered as without a moment’s hesitation she watched his head turn away. Because he was right, he’d already seen probably every inch of her. Yet she found herself grateful for the illusion of privacy. Shakingly she managed to put her knees into the grout, grabbing the towel from him. Itching in both mortification and that underlying safety she always got around Daryl these days she found she couldn’t take her eyes off the side of his face.

Wrapping the towel around her, she attempted to secure it under her arms before hesitantly letting her fingers tap on his shoulder. Her legs were not as stable as she wanted, but as Daryl turned back toward her, her hands found his shoulders more firmly. If she’d thought his hands on her ribs were marvelous before, having him help her to her feet was going to play in her frequent day dreams. The flush across her neck, face, and shoulders seemed to be catching then as she wanted to tease him like the rest of them did about their matching coloring. But the words wouldn’t pass her lips since her knees shaking seemed to betray her adrenaline-fueled state. And she thought it in everyone’s best interest if she ignored the fact Daryl had just seen her naked for as long as possible.

“Easy.” Daryl’s voice softened, but she could only stare as his palm found her blazing left cheek. That ease she loved and hated began coating her heart with the way his other hand lingered on her hip. A safety she deeply craved in that moment began to spread through her now cold and still dripping limbs. And bless him since he was not pulling away from her even as the reason for her current situation seemed to finally find his feet.

“Beth!” Maggie’s voice echoed past the diminishing ringing, a storm of boots down the hallway reaching her over Judith’s screaming. The resulting swirl of activity was swift as Daryl turned, pressing his back into her chest. Causing her own to find the corner between the half wall and cement she’d had her head on earlier, she found one hand clutching her towel tighter. But her other fisted into the wings flush against her, all but willing herself to disappear behind the security that was Daryl, his crossbow finding his hands in an all to graceful arch.

“What the fuck, was that a shot?” Tyreese’s booming voice drowned out both Maggie and Glen’s panicked calls and despite feeling anchored by the leather in her grasp, Beth found she still couldn’t speak.

“God damn kid wantin’ a show.” The gentle calm in Daryl’s voice that her frayed nerves were begging for, seemed to have evaporated at the deadly menace that greeted their new audience. But even as Beth laid her forehead against Daryl’s shoulder blades, she couldn’t find it in herself to keep up with the conversation now echoing twice as badly as it seemed they’d left the door open. While the ringing seemed to be going away, everyone speaking at once was enough to make her grimace in pain.

“Judy.” She whispered, but it seemed Maggie’s screaming lecture to her peeping tom overshadowed her gentle request.

“She’s fine.” Daryl’s gruff acknowledgement reassured her, more so than when he leaned to the side for her eyes to take in the baby in Carol’s arms. Because when had Carol gotten there? A high-pitched whine of pain tore her attention from the gentle shushing Tyreese was doing over the woman’s shoulder. Rising to her tip toes to see over Daryl’s shoulder she let out a snort to see Glen holding both of Maggie’s arms, as it was very apparent, she had just kneed the peeping tom in the groin.

“That’s enough.” Rick’s command from the doorway had her ducking her head back behind Daryl, because that was all she needed. Of course, Rick had to also witness her humiliation. And didn’t they all realize she was literally hiding behind Daryl in a towel?!

“No, this little…” Maggie declared, struggling in Glen’s arms as he pleaded with her to calm down.

“Beth, you okay?” Rick ignored her sister’s wild kicks at what she imagined was now a cowering teen since she’d yet to hear him actually speak. Which if she was honest, she was beginning to get angry he hadn’t so much as apologized to her. Reaching around Daryl’s right side she found herself giving Rick a thumbs up instead of lie. She could all but feel the eye roll from the man still shielding her.

“Everybody out. Maggie that’s enough. I’ve got this. Go get Herschel.” Rick’s commanding attempted to drown out her sisters cursing. Instead of watch Glen drag his fiancé out of the room or Rick haul the still mute teenager out of the door Beth found her forehead meeting Daryl’s shoulders once more.

“Daryl?” Rick’s questioning call echoed down the hallway; the door still open behind him.

“I’ve got her Daryl.” Carol’s concern washed over her, biting off the whine that threatened to slip from her lips as Daryl pulled himself from her.

“Ya good, Greene?” And damn it, she was tired of him always asking her that.

“I almost killed him, Daryl. I’m fine.” She couldn’t help but snap, her hand once more fisting in the knot of her towel as she saw his head bob before the door finally closed behind him. It wasn’t hard to shake off Carol thankfully then as she grabbed at the pile of clothes and stooped to pick up her gun.  
Reminding herself that privacy was a recent luxury did wonders for the flush still clinging to her skin as she attempted to pull her shirt over her head and Carol stood by the door. And it was true. When they had been on the road there was no privacy. They’d used the restroom in pairs. Only wading into rivers in groups, but still her anger told her this was not okay. At least then she’d had her underwear on.

But she had almost killed that kid for his intrusion and that made her feel both better and mortified. He was just a kid, and while she could still hear Maggie’s nagging voice call her one in return, he didn’t deserve to die over this. What had her a little more rattled than being gawked at was that she hadn’t heard the door open. Did that mean he’d been in here when she came in? No, she’d cleared the room before putting Judith down…but she hadn’t opened the lockers. She knew she’d kick herself later, but even as her eyes took in Judith’s now empty car seat a dread filled her lungs. If he’d been a walker…  
That seemed to be her only thought as Carol led her out into the courtyard and she yanked Judith out of Tyreese’s arms. Her wet hair was chilling even under the mid-day sun but she steeled herself against the impromptu meeting of both A and C block. All the residents of the prison now seemed to be on either side of an imaginary line.

Daryl, her father, and Rick stood firm shoulder to shoulder as they seemed to stare down anyone that dared cross toward their family. Likewise, she was grateful for Tyreese and Carol’s shadows to hide her from the stares the closing door brought her way. Judith swatted her cheek gently before Beth began to bounce her, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her eyes took in the tension around them as she’d been right about the boy’s grandmother. Since the snow haired woman was holding the still wincing asshole, she summoned a glare for.

“…We don’t ask for much. Be a decent person and help out. We won’t tolerate this kind of behavior. If you have a problem with that feel free to leave.” Her father’s calm anger cascaded over everyone in the eerie silence. Rick and Daryl seemed to find a glare for every single occupant of C block between them and Beth come to the conclusion she didn’t want to know what the rest of that speech had been. The blush was returning to her cheeks just being back in the courtyard like this. Why was it the entire prison only seemed to come together to discuss her embarrassment?

“Grown men, throwing around a curious fourteen-year-old boy don’t make you a decent person!” The frail and sun weathered woman spat, fussing over her grandson. Tommy. That was his name. Why she hadn’t been able to recall that until now she hadn’t the slightest clue. If she remembered correctly his parents had been killed when the governor failed to take the prison. And while it did help ease the anger now sitting low in her chest, the least he should do was apologize. She watched as Rick’s hand landed on her fathers’ shoulder at his instant protest. She couldn’t help trying to meld more firmly into the shadows around her as her father continued the lecture Maggie had started in the showers.

“No, she’s right. He wants to act grown; we should throw him for the walkers. They’re just as curious.” Rick’s hardened and frankly frightening declaration had her pulling Judith closer to her. She doubted she or any of them outside maybe Daryl had heard Rick threaten such a thing since the days after Lori died. It seemed no one quite knew what to say to that, but everyone stared.  
“You got something ya wanna say to her?” Daryl snapped, seeming to be the only one not turning a side eye to Rick’s murderous threat.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” The high-pitched squeak of Tommy barely made it to her ears, but Beth found herself sighing. He might have been fourteen, but as her eyes saw him more firmly in the sun, he very well could have passed for twelve. Puberty definitely hadn’t bothered with him yet. Again, she reminded herself, he didn’t deserve to die for being stupid, not before the stupidity of puberty. She’d jumped off the barn roof at twelve, convinced a kite taped to her back would let her glide down. Her broken arm had been punishment enough and he was being publicly shamed.

She understood that kind of embarrassment all too well. But even still, she glared as he ducked his head and she truly took in the damage Maggie had done to him. He wasn’t able to stand fully as he was hunched in pain but she had no doubt her sister hadn’t used her full weight on him. And there was an unmistakable urine stain running down his pant leg. Whether Daryl’s crossbow, Maggie’s kick or her bullet had done that she wasn’t sure.

“I think he’s learned his lesson.” She found herself admitting, busying her hands in transferring Judith to her other hip simply to keep herself still. Judith didn’t seem to mind thankfully as the baby cradled her head against Beth’s right shoulder. Seeming to have been successfully reassured by one or all of them from the startling gun shot that had woken her.

“You’re lucky to be alive, kid.” Tyreese called, the light heartiness in his tone appearing to be an attempt at negating hostility.

“Yep, those Greene girls don’t mess around.” Dr. S. attempted to laugh but Beth winced when it came out more of an awkward chuckle. Though it worked to her relief as people began fidgeting. The stand off seemed to last longer than it should but when two or three people from C block began to go back inside, she let out the breath she was holding.

“Don’t think he’ll be doin’ that again.” A slender woman also attempted to chuckle, and Beth knew she vaguely recognized her. She couldn’t quite remember her name, but she was the one they teased Tyreese about. She was sure of it.

“But Daryl saw her too.” Tommy’s squeak of indignation grated her ears and where she’d turned to take Judith inside Beth found her blood freezing. She was blushing again before she could curse. Reminding herself that taking responsibility for your own actions comes with maturity, she found her teeth grinding. That was a lesson she’d only learned along with the scar that suddenly itched under her bracelets. How was it she was only five years older than this idiot? Were they dog years?

“He’s just a kid.” Carol and Glen both seemed to remind everyone at the same time as anyone still lingering in the courtyard froze along with her. Her father closed his hand around Maggie’s shoulder as he winced openly, but she took in the rigid posture of the man in question. Closing her eyes with a sense of morbid acceptance Beth turned Judith’s head. Daryl might not kill him, but he was most definitely about to hurt him.

“A kid. Right…Carl.” Rick snorted, calling his son’s name. Which seemed to be the only thing he needed to say. She winced at the sickening crunch and outraged cry of Thomas’ grandmother before chancing a glance. Seeing Thomas on the ground was sobering her embarrassment but she watched as both Rick and Daryl put a hand on Carl’s shoulders. Her youngest friend was shaking his hand violently, cursing as only Daryl ever did.

“Nice shot, kid.” Daryl nodded, everyone watching as Dr. S. attempted to calm Thomas’ grandmother and reassure her it was just a broken nose. But it was her fathers gentle grip of her forearm that tore her eyes away from the way Rick ruffled his son’s hair. Her embarrassment rose once more but she did not hesitate to cross the threshold back into A Block. This day had gone to hell.

********

A week had passed since her mortifying encounter with the residents of C Block. But the thought, that Thomas might have been anyone or thing else, was still sitting heavy on her shoulders. Which is why she reasoned she’d gone against everyone’s wishes and found herself on the fence again today. She also still wanted to believe she was not avoiding Daryl, but the entire prison would have said otherwise. Blessedly he didn’t seem any more eager to face her than she was. She’d tried not to be envious of his ability to escape the fence she found herself kicking halfheartedly, but at least everyone was thanking her for all the venison.

Though even as Beth shoved her crowbar into the rotting jaw of a lone blonde walker, she couldn’t seem to settle her stomach. That might have had more to do with the fact this was her seventh day on the fence than anything else. Or that she couldn’t remember when the last time she’d sat down to a meal was. She acknowledged Sasha’s nod but chose not to say anything as the other woman joined her. Thankfully it seemed the other woman wasn’t about to try to convince her to go back inside like everyone else had.

“It’s gonna rain again.” The small talk washed over her as Beth turned her head upward. She was right and if yesterday hadn’t been hard enough with the freezing rain, Beth almost gave up and went back inside with the knowledge. Almost.

Instead she simply took off the apron she’d been wearing through two shift changes and watched as a very tall walker slowly trudged his way from the tree line. The apron would only slow her down in the rain, as she’d found out last night. It was a comforting thought. Because out here she could imagine the world was singular. Something moved, you moved. A walker stumbled to the fence, you put it down. A single-minded action, even if it was no less gruesome. The task was mind numbing in the best way. Which two years ago would have been a shocking concept since three dead walkers were piling up at her feet.

She couldn’t help but let her mind wander now, to who this man had been as the walker finally shuffled to land on the fence with a dull clank. Had he been a man at all since most of his face was gone to the ravages of whatever walker turned him? She marveled at just how tall he must have been, given he stood at least two heads above her when a gurgle erupted from a hole where the walkers esophagus had once sat. What did that make him she wondered? It was definitely well over six feet tall.

“Ut oh, someone’s in trouble.” Sasha’s singsong of amusement gathered her attention as she attempted to reach high enough to end her sixth walker of the day.

“What?” She huffed, not quite tall enough.

“Girl, what the fuck you still doin’ ou’ here? And why the fuck is ya sister tearin’ at me ta get your’ ass?” Daryl yelled, slamming the door between fences as her eyes widened. The chain link seemed to bounce under the force of his anger. The blush was an instant reaction she silently cursed. It wasn’t that she had been _actively_ avoiding him since last week, but still it did seem like it had been a while since she’d actually seen him. The memory of his crossbow aimed at her naked heart was irritatingly still raw.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” She muttered, raising to her tip toes once more in an attempt to end the walkers suffering. But she did know and it was painfully obvious when she pulled the blood-soaked metal in her hands in frustration at missing her mark. Because this wasn’t her problem; it was Maggie’s. Which was doing nothing for the sour mood she’d been fighting all week. A mood not helped by his sudden need to be at least five feet away from her.

Maggie had sent everyone in their family out here to convince her back into the prison walls. Glen, Tyreese, and Carl had been the easiest ones to turn away. She had made a point to hug Carl after dismissing his worry, his knuckles were still bruised, but everyone else could stuff their arguments. Carol had tried using Judith to her charge in, and really what did Maggie think Daryl was going to achieve if that hadn’t worked?

“Girl, you been out here a damn week. Don’t make me haul your ass.” He threatened and Beth found her jaw tightening. She rolled her eyes as he attempted to crowd her. Standing her ground against the gurgles of the walker still making to grab her through the fence, Beth would not be intimidated. And when was he going to learn he couldn’t do that to her?

“Daddy and Rick don’t have a problem with it.” She huffed, omitting the fact both men had gently reminded her there were shifts out here for a reason before giving up. She didn’t want to talk about this no matter how much her father, Maggie, or Rick pushed. She’d let them all assume she was to embarrassed to go back inside yet. What harm did it do to let them assume? It had the added bonus of steering every conversation away from the truth. She did blush when Maggie had accused her of being uneasy about what Daryl had seen but, no that wasn’t why she was out here.

“That’s bullshit, and ya know it.” He challenged, a single strong hand swinging the hunting knife from his waist as she continued to use the walker as a distraction from his gaze. She found a near growl leaving her at the sickening sound of crunching bone above her. Who ever that walker had been was now gone, another crumpled body at her feet.

“What do you want from me?” She snapped, shying away from his proximity.

“I ain’t playin’ this game, Girl.” He ground his teeth, slamming his knife back into its place on his hip. She could do little but turn her head when his approaching figure pushed her back against the now empty fence. Okay, maybe that did work sometimes…

“Go to hell.” She spat under her breath, but even as the whisper left her lips she flinched at the rigid set of his shoulders.

“Daryl!” She shrieked in abject horror, her eyes widening as she had little time to realize what was happening before the ground began to swim in her vision. His collarbone dug painfully into her still uneasy stomach as he threw her over his shoulder without a single pause.

“Daryl!” She screamed again as she frantically attempted to grab onto him to starve off falling. The arm he used to vice her thighs together did little to reassure she wasn’t about to slide off his shoulder. It also did embarrassingly pleasant things up her spine she was not willing to give into.

“Daryl, put me down!” She tried again as she was jostled in his fireman’s carry through the gate and into the yard. Slamming her fist into every inch of his back she could reach, Beth turned her ears away from Sasha’s laughter.

It was his hand colliding on her backside that silenced her a brief moment. But the sharp sting of his palm’s echo would not deter her from pounding his back. If she’d thought her embarrassment was over, she’d been sorely mistaken as the brown dirt in her vision swayed far longer than she wanted. Blushing around the fall chill, she attempted to kick him but found she could do little but sway dangerously in his firm grip.

“Put. Me. Down. Daryl. Dixon.” She ground her teeth around every syllable, going deathly still against gravity’s gentle pull and the unwelcome tingle of her spine. Whether it was her murderous intentions or he’d reached his chosen destination Beth swatted his now blazing shoulder as she was shifted. Landing heavily onto of the groaning picnic table on the far side of the yard, she couldn’t stop the wince of brief pain from her aching palm and right cheek.

“Talk.” His grumbled demand pulled her focus from the unconscious rubbing she was now doing to the outside of her left thigh. She wondered a brief moment where her crowbar had landed, as she wanted to use it on him.

“No.” She snapped, kicking her leg out toward his now pacing figure in what she knew was a childish action but it made her feel better. All the polite but distant words they’d shared in the last week seemed to mount between them, crashing over the peak of her irritation.

“Then’ fuckin’ listen. You ain’t getting’ a fuckin’ apology oughta me, Girl, so...”

“You’re not the first man to see me naked, Daryl. I don’t want a’ a’pology!” She lied, but she set her shoulders and was determined to be believed. Because technically it was a lie, but Daryl did not need to know that. Technically Jimmy had seen her without her bra several times, but…

It seemed this entire conversation was paining him then when he was the one that couldn’t meet her hardened eye. She watched as he ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose before lightly chewing his thumb. He was itching for a cigarette. She could tell. She also knew she had no sympathy for him after the way he’d just hauled her around.

“Back ta ya fuckin corner, Greene. This shit about tha’ fence. You’r’ messin’ wit people’s heads out here.” His continued pacing set her teeth on edge against the heat of her embarrassment.

“That’s their problem.” She found herself shrugging, cursing Maggie’s inability to leave her alone. And why was this conversation still easy? Why was she now hunched over her knees, pressing her forearms into them, accepting the inevitability of staying for this?

“You’r’ gonna get some’en’ killed. This shit ‘bout that? You hangin’ round for a ‘sorry’ ‘bout the shower? You ain’t stupid, Girl, you shoot that gun you know…” _I’ll come running_. A shiver, not owing to the cold stubbornly demanded to pass through her as he trailed off, pointing at the metal tucked into her hip before his back was in her direction, swaying. She did know, and it warmed her heart against the indignation coiling in her gut. He hadn’t exactly meant to walk in on her. She’d practically summoned him by firing that shot.

“It’s…I don’t need an apology. I know that Daryl…but can’t ya’ll just leave me alone? I can handle myself.” The sigh escaped her lips then, because no matter what, she was willing to let them all believe it was embarrassment keeping her out here. They had all doubted her in the past, it didn’t do any good for her to fight that. Hell, she doubted herself nearly every day.

“Greene.” He huffed, a moment of tense silence engulfing them before he seemed to make up his mind about something that had him halting his pacing. Swiping at the wisps of hair that were now falling into her face, Beth held back a snort when he sat heavily beside her.

“Not when ya covered in walker.” He admitted, his index finger sliding across her left temple as if to prove his point when it came back smeared red. Though the gentle wave of relaxation it produced across her sore muscles did more to sate her anger. The anger giving way wasn’t pleasant because at her core the dread returned and she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. It was one thing for her to know the truth, it was not okay for Daryl to know.

“Look…what do ya think ya do here?” He asked as Beth saw him mirror her position from the side of her eye, but nearly rolled her eyes as the table beneath them began to bounce with his knee.

“Judy’s fine.” She shook her head, still unable to meet his eyes even as he waited a good three minutes for a response. For now. She was fine, for now.

“This ain’t ‘bout Asskicker, Girl.” She knew the gentle nudge of his shoulder was a request to get her attention away from the mud and blood coating her boots, but she couldn’t find herself giving it to him. Because as much as she could still feel her blood raging with the knowledge, he’d walking in on her…it was about Judith.

“The world out there is shit. It’s…we ain’t tryin’ ta coddle ya. Ya, can handle ya self, same as the rest. But…Beth you fuckin sing…and ya…we come back ta…” His inability to find the right words earned him the gaze he’d been seeking, but it seemed he was now the one determined not to look at her. She watched his eyes rake in the yard before she was turning to do the same. The leaves were a fascinating swirl of orange and brown but she doubted that was what actually had the tense man’s attention.

“You’re everythin’ good left in this fucked up shit hole, world. Fuck us f’er’ being selfish, but get off the damn fence, ‘fore you get bit and I murder that damn kid. This fuckin’ place is just a fuckin’ place without you.” While she watched him scrap mud from his boot and his fingers twitched against his knees, if seemed that was all it took for the rest of the world to disappear. Her breathing hitched as he fidgeted, a very unsure air swallowing the pair before Beth let her head land on his shoulder. The anger was gone. Everything was just gone… because what was she supposed to say to that?! There were no words for the way his admission wrapped around her heart and chased away the death hanging over the world.

“If he’d been a walker, she’d be dead.” The truth tumbled out of her with a grimace, even as Beth found her hands grabbing for his steadier ones. The crowbar blisters were no match for his crossbow callouses as she slid her fingers around his; wondering just who she was trying to steady by holding his hand.

“Asskicker’s fine.” He sighed, a gentle squeeze of her aching joints the only sign he gave her to know he wasn’t going to pull away. It wasn’t very nice of her to slid the splatters of walker on her temple into his shoulder, but Beth found her cheek sinking into his comfort anyway.

“I have to get stronger…I can’t do that inside. I… I don’t know if I can kill someone. I been tryin’ to picture they was people.” The stupid childish part of her wanted so badly to hear him say she would never have to make that decision again, but they both knew it would be a lie. The depression chased away the gentle tug of his hands. But even as he shook her off to throw his arm around her and pull her more firmly into his side, she couldn’t stop the sinking dread. Reality hurt. Even now she could make out the lasting edges of his rope burns. She had so much more to worry about than the ache in her stomach or the urge to blush under his arm. Settling her still bloodied cheek against the planes of leather was all the reassurance she knew she could ask for.

“The way the Governor hurt Maggie…Judy was with me.” She hesitated as she felt his lungs freeze under her but forced herself forward. He wanted to know; it wasn’t her fault if he didn’t like the answer of where her head was at.

“You’d a fuckin’ killed him. Shit, with that noise.” He huffed, but Beth sighed as his arm became so tight, she wondered if he might bruise her. The hand closed over her shoulder seeming to sear her.

“I missed.” She tried to joke, even as she found herself inhaling the heady scent of leather, dirt, and sweat beneath her nose. She loved their ease this time, as his other arm came around her, and where thoughts of the Governor and taking someone’s life had plagued her over the embarrassment of being naked in front of him; it all went away.

“You ain’t doin’ any good on the fence. Just wearin’ ya self out. Give ya sis a heart attack.” The gentle hum of his words was perhaps meant to be a reprimand but Beth shook her head, wrapping her own arms around his ribs in response. How was he so warm?

“Daryl…” She found herself sighing, drawing out the syllables in his name only because she couldn’t find anything else to say. Not with the way he was now holding her. Not after she’d finally spoken aloud her fear.

Could she kill someone? She’d almost killed, Tommy, but were those three inches because he was a kid? Did she miss on purpose or did she just miss? And how could she not hold Daryl tighter as his own words were ringing in her ears. She was everything good left in the world? What did she say now?

“Get up to the fuckin’ tower tomorrow. We’ll shoot some shit. Right the fuckin circus ya call a brain.” He exhaled, pulling away from her and when her hands tightened in protest, she received a gentle knock against the back of her head. With a groan she let him go, disentangling her limbs slowly, but she found a glare for him when they finally were able to look at each other. His eyes were uneasy, and she watched as he started to fidget.

“I seen your’ fuckin’ ribs. Eat this shit for I haul your ass back to your sis and change my mind.” He snarked, a bright green wrapper finding its way under her nose from his left pocket.

“Daryl.” She blushed, inching away from him as he chuckled at her scandalous cry. The small smile behind his mocking had one of her own twitching in response but she tried to cover it by running her hand over the splatters she knew were still there. Her ribs weren’t the only thing she knew he’d seen. Why was her shirt suddenly to tight? Trying to distract herself she pulled the sweaty fabric from her sternum, very much aware of his gaze. But no matter how she then tugged at the wisps escaping the confines of her hair the burning of his gaze lingered. The beating of her heart under such an intense stare had her violently ripping the wrapper from his hands.

“Fine.” She huffed for his benefit, opening the granola bar with both hands before ripping off a piece in the side of her mouth. Clutching the bar as if a squirrel for his amusement, she didn’t try to hide her smile this time when he laughed at her. She loved that sound. He didn’t do that enough. He also didn’t put his hand on her cheek often enough as he leaned over to do. Her teeth forgot how to function as his nose ghosted across her forehead, his lips just barely catching on the bridge of her nose before he was three feet across from her and disappearing back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Beth feeds Daryl...and maybe a bonus smut chapter. I haven't decided yet. I've never attempted that before.


	5. Practice Makes Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I just wanted to take a second and let you know how awesome you are. I can’t begin to tell you how much your comments and kudos mean to me. So be prepared for the whiplash below as we reach the breaking point. Since chapter 6…now 7, is happening though, I went a little more E than I’d originally planned to practice. In doing so, these two wore me out. So I pushed Beth feeding Daryl to another chapter.

Did Daryl ask her out?! That question had been running through her mind for nearly sixteen hours now. But even as she continued thinking about it, she seemed no closer to an actual answer. At least not one she liked. Daryl Dixon had sat next to her, hugging her, reassuring her the world was shit like she said but she wasn’t.

Since when was he the person, she needed reassurances from? The only person she told her fears was her own father. He was the only person she ever let know the smile on her face wasn’t quite what it seemed. Everyone else needed her to bring down the tension. They needed a distraction, and she was good at that. But her father was the only person she had ever felt wouldn’t judge her after she’d taken that piece of glass to her wrist. Perhaps his alcoholism had something to do with that.

Maggie’s irritating insistence she go back inside was evidence enough of that. Carol seemed to understand better, but even she tended to mother her. Rick had more important things to worry about than his babysitter. And while she might be a little to cruel to Rick’s views of her, still everyone had better things to do than worry about her feelings. Which she was getting tired of having to tell herself. They all had jobs to do, and whether she was on the fence or with Judith, a job was getting done.

Why then did Daryl care? What exactly had Maggie said to him? Because Maggie was not speaking to her, that was for sure. Beth doubted Maggie would speak to her until she gave up her now semi-permanent position on the left fence. Which would suit her just fine. This was not about Maggie. And only Daryl had torn the truth out of her.

But since when did Daryl’s words meld over every insecurity that inwardly plagued her and obliterate them in seconds? The decision to kill someone shouldn’t be that easy to wash away. Did he know just how much hearing him; their protector, provider, savior, say she made this home meant to her? Cloud nine did not begin to describe the heights of her elation.

Beth was still soaring on his simple and quickly dismissed words. His lips had branded the bridge of her nose in a constant reminder of just how much she cared about his opinion. And since when did he give out forehead kisses?! Because that was going to need to stop if she was ever going to sleep again. Rick and her father often showed their affection in such a way, so she couldn’t exactly tell him it wasn’t okay, but that was not going to fly with Daryl. Even now she could feel her toes curling and her cheeks heating.

How did she tell him the sheer vulnerability his breath was able to stir in her heart? Could she even bring herself to tell him that it didn’t matter if she had to kill a hundred people if that was her reward? If she got to sit next to Daryl, and just be. The intense safety and…love she had deep in her soul just made everything disappear. And it was love, she was almost sure. Jimmy hadn’t come close to instilling these kinds of feelings in her heart even if she’d thought he was the world back then. There were no walkers, no apocalypse, no doubts, no worry when Daryl was holding her. Wasn’t that a feeling like no other? Those three inches from Tommy’s head had disappeared quicker in five minutes than the entire weeks’ worth of walkers. She felt as if she could do anything and her entire family had been throwing her looks all night for the small smile she hadn’t wanted to hide.

Though, he hadn’t taken her back inside which was perhaps the most baffling of all. Beth knew he could have lied to her like most anyone would have. She’d have taken the comfort of lies without complaint. Often times a lie was all you could hang onto. They weren’t safe here, but it was safer than outside. The Governor would come back no matter how many people lied and said he was dead. If she lived long enough, she would have to make that decision again. While she still held onto the knowledge there were good people in the world; she couldn’t ignore that with good, comes bad. But Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Carol, Carl, Sasha, Tyreese…they were all good people.

Sure, they all had their flaws, but they were her family and the prison’s ever-expanding population was evidence enough of the fact they were good. Maybe misguided in their attempts to shield her from the world she’d already been immersed into, but could she blame them? Every time Maggie drove out with Glen, her stomach clenched. Would it be the last time she saw them? She’d been unable to let Zach in for that very reason and hadn’t she been right? If anyone else felt the way Daryl did…and didn’t that thought send a shiver down her spine. But this wasn’t a fairy-tale and she wasn’t a princess they could lock in an ivory tower. Though picturing Daryl as a dragon brought a tiny laugh to her still curved lips. He certainly had the temper most days.

In fact, if he ever spoke to her without cursing, she thought she’d have a heart attack. In nearly two years she didn’t think she could remember a time he didn’t curse. Even now as she waited for walkers to come trudging through the still muddy ground, she could feel the lingering anger from his crowding her into the fence. There had been such…She was being stupid.

She needed to focus, because this was not a date. This was Daryl Dixon and he most likely meant exactly what he said. They were going to have target practice today, that was it. Nothing had changed. He rarely said anything he didn’t mean. But that included what he’d said yesterday.

He hadn’t even told her she was being stupid or reckless like everyone else. Well, he had called her stupid in his own way, but really Daryl called everyone stupid. No, she was still on the fence taking out walkers because she could. She could handle herself. He’d said so himself, and to finally hear someone say that…

She should have told him how much he meant to her. She should have kissed him. She should have done anything but sit there eating like a squirrel, trying to make him laugh. And even now she found her eyes rolling at herself. But what he’d said, was what he’d meant right? She made this place home and she wasn’t just around. Because despite the gloomy day and the distinct chill left in the air, it had felt like it.

She made the prison home. And while she knew they all made an effort to make the best of their current safe haven, those two reassurances yesterday felt much like Judith’s love over her heart. She was everything good in the world? Daryl didn’t know what he was talking about, but damn if she could wipe the smile off of her face. But he hadn’t asked her out? Right?

No, that couldn’t have been what he meant when he invited her to the guard tower…but was it? She wasn’t naïve about what a lot of people used the guard tower for. Maggie and Glen certainly didn’t make a secret of themselves after all. Which was still embarrassing most afternoons when the Greene family found themselves together at dinner. But even as she slid her crowbar into a portly walker, still on the fence to Maggie’s charge in, she couldn’t help but feel a small bounce in her step.

If it wasn’t a date, which this was Daryl it couldn’t be an actual date, it was still time alone with him. She couldn’t say she’d had that much time alone with Daryl “maddening hands” Dixon. In fact, the moment she’d fallen apart on him over a month ago may have been the last time she was physically alone with the all-consuming man more than five minutes. And wasn’t that going to make this even more confusing?

Why was she always falling apart on Daryl? Why couldn’t she get through her day without thinking about him at least once? And why didn’t she feel guilty about it this time? What made this so different than all those weeks ago? Maybe not crying had helped, but still. Why was Daryl even concerned with what had her on the fence? He’d been avoiding her space just the same she had the last week.  


In fact, the lack of playful nudges and flippant curses in her direction had left her more than angry enough to stab a couple walkers to hard. Which she wasn’t going to admit to, given the results had been smeared on Daryl’s shoulder yesterday. He always seemed to come with more questions than answers these days and while she waited for his shift in the tower nothing seemed to have a good answer. But the questions were definitely her favorite distraction from the everyday dull drums of life in the apocalypse.

The sun was getting high in the sky when she saw him make his way into the guard tower she’d been staring at all morning. Thankfully Carol hadn’t said anything about her sudden fascination with the concrete structure but slipping out of her apron did earn her a raised eyebrow. And she was not going to blush because this was Daryl, he probably didn’t even know the guard tower’s reputation. Besides she’d taken him his dinner in the tower many times. She often ran meals out to those on shift. And just because she daydreamed about things between them, that did not make it true.

Leaning her crowbar against the inner fence for the next shift, Beth couldn’t help but try to hide the small bounce in her step then. So, what if they all thought she was stupid for it. It didn’t matter what any of them thought. Right? Because this wasn’t a date. What would they actually think of her going up into the guard tower without an excuse? They’d just be happy she wasn’t still on the fence, wouldn’t they? Maggie might actually speak to her in that case.

But the heavy metal door was clanging behind her before she could slow the racing of her heart. The spiraling staircase was dark to her slight fear, but Beth pushed her feet forward and gripped the railing a little harder than she needed to.

Of all the places in the prison where she was least likely to come across a walker, this was it. One person went up and one person came down…well, usually. Thinking about Maggie and Glen had her wincing as she rounded her fifteenth step. No, despite the guard towers uses for privacy that was not why she was headed up the stairs. Daryl was going to teach her to shoot better and she would not pass up this opportunity even if it wasn’t him. Those three inches might not be worrying her so much anymore, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use the practice with anything they’d hand her.

Thirty-seven stairs separated her from Daryl and while that normally didn’t seem like a lot each one was bringing with it a sense of nervousness. But even as her calves complained a bit at the added exercise after over a week of standing at the fence, she could do little but try to regulate herself. She needed to get her mind back into reality. Alone time with Daryl was so rare, anyone volunteering to teach her even more so. She could not screw this up by thinking about his hands the whole time. Or that she should have kissed him yesterday. Taking a deep breath, Beth rose her hands up and down with the motion when she could climb no higher.

No, this was just target practice and she could do this. She had to do this. If not to save her own life in the coming days, then Judith’s. The trap door was heavy and her already aching arms protested, but the small rolling anticipation in her stomach washed it away.

“Greene.” He greeted, seeming to have his back to her as her sweaty and red hands gripped the ladder.

Hoisting herself through the door, she tossed a small smile in his direction anyway for knowing it was her. But since when had he found a cigarette? As she tried not to let the heavy metal slam back into place and encourage the distant walker moans, she could hear, her eyes took in his relaxed posture.

Slow trails of smoke rose from his fingers, a stark contrast to the dying embers between his nails. It seemed she’d caught him at the first one at least since she didn’t see any buds out of the balcony with him. It also seemed as if he’d left the balcony door open, and despite herself Beth couldn’t help but think he’d done it just for her.

“When’s the last time ya did thi’s?” He asked, not seeming to feel the same nervousness at their current surroundings. Right, this was Daryl. This was not a date. She needed to focus.

“What? Oh, the shower count?” She tried to tease, even as a blush accompanied the turning of his head. His raised eyebrow brought the small smile she’d thrown his back, up onto her lips once more but she refused to duck her head. No, they were not going to talk about that, but neither one of them was going to be embarrassed. At least she was trying not to be. They were both adults, and hadn’t they had this conversation yesterday? But even as she worried her bottom lip she wondered if he would snap at her for bringing it up.

Instead Daryl tossed the dying cigarette butt over the railing. He was moving further down the balcony before her feet took her to his side wordlessly. Nope, they were apparently not going to have that conversation again. Or any for that matter as the man that haunted her dreams seemed content to say nothing.

The truth was since bullets were important these days, they didn’t exactly keep up with target practice. Time with anyone that knew guns as well as Daryl or Rick was also a precious commodity. The hunting rife leaned against the balcony railing was not something she could say she’d ever held. Maybe she should have snuck out and watched Shawn and Otis practice, but that was another life.  


At least she could tell him it had a sight on it. She watched as he lifted the gun as if it were his crossbow with no effort or care, his fingers trailing up the barrel. She was going to need to focus harder, because that didn’t look like the M4 they usually kept up here. The rifle was in his hands only a moment before he was motioning her forward, his actual crossbow slung high over his back.

“Isn’t…Isn’t this gonna bring walkers?” Beth questioned, suddenly nervous for a very different reason. While she knew the ringing in her ears had been from the ricochet last week that did not stop the knowledge that this thing was most likely to kick her off her feet. But then, it wasn’t a shot gun, so maybe it wouldn’t?

“Got‘it covered.” He snapped distractedly as he twisted the dial on the hunting rifles scope, his eyes looking out across the orange landscape. Otis flashed again in her memory a brief moment and despite being painful she cast her eyes over the way he was holding the gun. Her hands were a lot smaller than his, but maybe she could replicate that. She spent too much time watching his hands anyway not to know how they gripped things. Right, she was up here for a reason. And that was not it.

Turning her eyes in the direction of his she found herself looking over the railing, where she noticed three moving heads further down the right fence. What was…oh.

Rick, Carol, and Carl seemed to be sharing a pleasant conversation on the furthest fence and despite herself, Beth found a blush creeping back up. Of course, Daryl would ask Rick for extra hands on the fence if they were going to literally ring a dinner bell for them.

“Feet a‘part.” Daryl muttered, even as he handed the overly heavy rifle into her sweaty hands. With a nod, Beth told herself she would focus only on his voice. He was teaching her and she was not going to waste this time.

Her life, and Judith’s might one day depend on this training. Fitting the rifle awkwardly against her shoulder as she slid her left hand down the barrel, she put herself on the balcony railing. Trying not to shiver under his gaze or at the October breeze shifting through her sweater, Beth cocked her head and closed one eye. Her right hand lingered heavily over the trigger, unsure if she was copying him correctly. There was nothing familiar or comfortable about the weight in her hands even if it was lighter than the military rifle, they usually kept up here. But it seemed Daryl had no patience for letting her figure it out herself.

His foot was nudging into her ankles, pushing her feet shoulder width apart before she knew what she was doing. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. His left hand was sliding down her arm across the barrel as he moved her into a more comfortable grip. Focus…she was supposed to be focusing. But of course, when his other hand landed on her hip and rolled her backward just a bit it was all she could do to look down the sight of the gun in her hands.

“Lead the target.” Daryl’s muttered instruction shivered over her ear and Beth ground her teeth. No, she was up here for a reason and he was not going to distract her with how amazing of a person he was or his hands. Taking a deep breath, Beth pulled the butt of the rifle closer to her shoulder. Cradling it as she’d seen Maggie do, while she looked down where he was now guiding the gun’s barrel with a hand.

“Back, ya gonna get scoped.” He warned, a gentle wave of relaxation settling over the nervous fire in her stomach when a lock of her loose hair ended up behind her ear. The gentle glide of his index finger continued down the curve of her ear as he went but it was blessedly quick.

Following his instruction was second nature as she took in the left fence line, she’d been clearing the last week. There didn’t appear to be anyone on it. Not a walker, or person was in sight to her slight annoyance. But if she was asked, she was a bit grateful he and Rick had worked this out so well. The last thing she wanted to do was test her guilty conscious after missing a shot over one of their heads. No, Beth knew this was a deadly weapon in her hands. She could just as easily turn the sight to the gentle hum of her family in the other direction. That knowledge was sobering as she scanned the fence line, aware Daryl’s hand continued to stay on her hip.

“Ther’s a’ X, find it.” He continued his muttering and despite herself Beth found her head coming up. Turning her narrowed gaze at him, she couldn’t resist jutting out the hip in his grasp. He gave her a small smirk for her playful efforts from behind the bangs in his eyes before she turned back to the task at hand. It was just such a Daryl thing she couldn’t help find the nerves were leaving her slowly.  


Scanning the tree line, she noted the target he’d carved for her just off the road. He’d had to go out there last night to create such a deep and large ‘X’ into the oak tree. And didn’t that just continue to melt her because only Daryl would even think about risking his own life outside the fence for something like this. She only regretted it took her a few long minutes of silence to find it. If she hadn’t been staring at the guard tower all day she’d have clearly known where it was.

“A’int the Governor, but it’ll do.” His deep-seated mumble battled with her deep inhale as she stared down toward the tree. She’d almost forgotten why they were out here.

“I couldn’t do that, Daryl.” She found herself confessing once more, the gentle relaxation of his hold melding into the returning nerves in her stomach.

“Shoot.” He huffed, but Beth hesitated when she saw a walker start to stumble up the road beside her target. Looking intently down the scope she made out that he was maybe Glen’s height if she had to wager a guess, but he’d been her age. The half-torn jeans and backward baseball hat were stained in ancient blood and dirt, but they’d been a fashion choice once.

“Damn it, Greene!” Daryl snapped at her and while Beth exhaled, she complied. Flinching away from the recoil of the scope she realized he’d been right to pull her back from it or she’d have gotten a black eye. The jar to her already sore shoulder wasn’t to unpleasant as she’d feared, but the single erratic beat of her heart didn’t help her feel confident in her shot. Even if the walker was now laying on the ground from what she could see in the scope.

“Ain’t seem that hard from here.” He snorted, his gentle squeeze of her hip the only thing tearing Beth away from the sight of the dead walker after a moment of silence. Lifting her head, she let out a sigh.  


That was a walker, it didn’t count. It had taken a week to realize that. No matter how many times she tried to picture them as people, as she’d told him, she just couldn’t get past the fact that they weren’t anymore. The barn had wiped that ability from her. While walkers still mattered as past people, she wasn’t capable of seeing them as human in the present tense anymore. That didn’t mean they didn’t deserve her respect in death. No, walkers had been people.

“It’s only a walker.” She shrugged, cocking her head back to look down the sight. He was quiet ten long minutes as she swept over the still silent fence before taking up the target once more. She wasn’t proud of flinching then when his hands moved to show her how to clear the shell to shoot again.

No, if that had been a person she’d have missed. She was almost sure of it now, and while his words from yesterday were still trying to chase out the doubts they were creeping back. She missed the target four times then, dirt flying from the base of tangled roots attempting to overtake the asphalt.

“Hold up. Fo’r’ ya make a bigger fuckin’ hole. Ya ain’t this bad regular. Look down.” He grabbed her attention, the hand on her hip coming up to point the rifle harmlessly down at the left fence. Confused she complied, seeing nothing but what she’d seen before. Carol and Rick were leaned up against the inner fence, staring off at her sorry attempt of shooting as Carl seemed to pace back and forth.

“Ya, see that?” Daryl’s voice snapped her attention away from the almost pleasant sound of silence on the breeze.

“No?” She questioned, not really sure why he was stopping her since it was beyond clear she was going to need a lot of practice. The dead walker in the middle of the road, she’d chalk up to luck at the moment. She knew she wasn’t an altogether hopeless shot, but this wasn’t her best showing.

“Ya, gotta hav’ a reason ta do it, Girl. Ya ain’t shit, ya don’t. Ain’t fuckin’ complicated.” The way his voice trailed off had her sighing before she found herself gripping the railing to really look down. Maybe she was missing something? She already knew she’d defend her family. Hell, she had on the road. Not more than once or twice when a walker got to close, but still. Those were walkers. Those three inches were now firmly back in her mind.

But her brain and breathing halted then as his gentle exhale traced across her right ear lobe. The hand recapturing her hip seemed to tighten against all measure in time with the less than gentle drag of his left hand up her spine. The heat that spread through her body was jarring as she tried to clench her jaw against the blush, she knew was about to be battling the winters cold. What was he doing?! The end of her sweater was riding up a small bit under the weight of his hands drag upward.

“Aim, f’r’ fucks sake.” He huffed, his wandering left-hand landing heavily onto her shoulder.

Beth made herself take a breath then as the heat of his body invaded her senses. If she leaned backward, she’d be in his arms again, and he knew what stepping so close to her did to her nerves. Why was he doing this? This was not the time or the place for their casual touching. She’d been trying to remind herself of that all day. And she would never forget that morning in the kitchen all those weeks ago when he’d been behind her like this. Had he? Raising the rifle back in her hands with a new anger battling her already warring emotions she did as he said.

Pulling the trigger harshly this time she ignored the way her shoulder bumped into his chest with the recoil and the distant clapping she could hear from the fence. Pulling the trigger once more after clearing the round she found the sight of splintering bark rather comforting. But it seemed with every round she managed to wedge into the trunk of her target his hands dug that much harder into her skin.

“Daryl…” She tried, rolling her shoulders a little bit for emphasis as a third round cracked across the top right corner of her mark. She needed to focus. He didn’t seem to know what she was asking then as she continued to aim down the tree line. His agonizingly tight grip was threatening to splinter her much like the wood if he didn’t let her go. This wasn’t fair and Beth nearly shoved her entire weight backward in protest, but stilled when instead of pull away, she collided with Daryl’s warmth. His elbow jutted out not to be caught between them as he still refused to move his hand from her shoulder. Whether her face was red from blushing or the cold she couldn’t tell anymore, but everything, save the anger was thankfully gone.

He should remember what this did to her and despite all her teenage fantasies the last day she knew better than this. This wasn’t a date. This was cruel, and she didn’t think Daryl was that type of person. Rolling her shoulders again she made sure to jerk her left shoulder afterward, her intent clear as she tilted the rifle down. Her head came up quickly, and she wondered how she didn’t end up colliding with his head with at least her hair. But he didn’t let go as quickly as she wanted to her irritation.

“Daryl.” She snapped, ignoring the flip in her stomach to give him a clear and distinct warning. He didn’t want to play this game with her. She succeeded in losing the warmth coloring her back, but not his now bruising grip as he took one step back. No, it was two long beats of her heart before he let go of her. Taking her own step forward, Beth found herself grinding the freezing rail into her traitorous stomach.

“Aim, Greene.” He teased, an unsteady waver in his voice as he didn’t seem able to speak more than a distracted whisper. An uncomfortable tension seemed to swallow the balcony as she attempted to raise the rifle back up to her sight with a heavy swallow. But even as she looked at the carved mark and swung the rifle to the left at the moan of a walker, her ears instead turned over his voice. Something didn’t sound right about the way he’d said that.

This time she noticed she couldn’t make out any distinguishing features to the creature desperately searching for its next meal thankfully. The mud and weather had eaten anything this person at once been. Without a single hesitation, Beth pulled the trigger. She cursed when she saw a spray of red, but the mud zombie refused to go down. Clearing and firing again, Beth let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding when she put the walker down. The rifle wasn’t as heavy as it had started out being, but she found her arms sagging.

Turning her head to celebrate her shot with Daryl she frowned. Their ease was gone as she took in the tense set of his muscles. Leaned against the wall of dirty plexi-glass windows, Daryl would give the appearance of uninterested to everyone else. But she’d spent too much time watching Daryl not to notice the way his bangs were hiding his eyes and his crossed arms were straining. Or the way he was biting the tip of his thumb. He also wasn’t so much as looking in her direction, which kind of defeated the entire point of target practice.

Did she…Did she hurt him by throwing him off? No, that couldn’t be it, right? But as Beth tried to catch Daryl’s eye, she found his gaze was firmly locked onto the space above her right shoulder. If she didn’t know any better, she might have let that pass as him actually paying attention, to where she was pointing the rifle. But she was pointing it over the left railing and not straight ahead anymore.

“Daryl?” She asked, almost to softly in her uncertainty. He hummed at her, his hand dropping from his lips as his eyes glanced to her left shoulder before over the railing, and back toward the target with a dismissing wave of his two fingers.

Turning back to the road Beth raised the rifle again, her forearms twitching against the motion as her eyes flickered to the side. The air around them didn’t feel right, and even as Beth attempted to reassure herself, she couldn’t stop the feeling maybe she shouldn’t have shaken off Daryl’s hands.

He didn’t mean to throw her feelings in her face. This was Daryl, he wouldn’t do that. He’d known about her embarrassing crush for weeks now. What did it mean then, that he was as far away from her as he could physically be again? Shaking her head, Beth tried to focus once more, missing the target by a few inches before she gave up. It was no use trying to shoot when her mind wanted to be elsewhere.

“Daryl.” She sighed, the awkward tension swirling in the three steps between them seeming to eat away at her. She found all of her once relaxed muscles were now locked in mirror to his own. He at least picked his head up to look at her then to her relief. But his lips were too tightly drawn over his teeth as she held his halfway hidden gaze.

“I didn’t mean…” She tried; not sure she was even reading this right. She watched as he snorted, shaking his head ‘no’ before he refused to look at her again. What did that mean? No, what? She wanted to ask but found herself letting a heavy exhale out of her nose.

Turning more fully toward him, she shifted the butt of the rifle onto the ground. Making sure to grab hold of the barrel she pointed it off to the side before jutting out her hand in a peace offering. She could be wrong, of course, but nothing else seemed to account for the sudden coiled atmosphere swallowing them. Hoping her offering would work, Beth winced as Daryl simply stared at her fingers.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t…you know what that does.” She couldn’t help but stumble, her words barely above a whisper in embarrassment. Not meeting his eyes, she retracted her hand, using it to push away the annoying strands of hair escaping in the breeze. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was the furthest thing from what she would ever want to do.

Though she found her eyes snapping back up to him then as her hand was caught from sweeping her hair from more than her temple. But it was his eyes that truly caught her attention, in addition to the small tilting wince of guilt wrapping his lips. She could only remember seeing the softness he regarded her with once as he hesitated, not seeming to have realized he’d even crossed the distance between them. There was such guarded affection swimming in his gaze that she couldn’t help but try to smile for him.

The twitch of his fingers told her then that she’d been right. He’d either forgotten, or not cared, and it was painfully obvious now as he shifted uneasily. How on earth he could have forgotten she didn’t know. But as she tilted her head into the gentle glide of his fingers reassuringly, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes playfully for him.

How could he have forgotten what he did to her nerves when she blushed every time, she came into contact with him? She wanted to ask him out right, but her jaw refused to move at the pleasant tingling of her right ear.

Maybe he’d been right to stick to the boundaries he’d created. A soothing hand up her back shouldn’t have them recoiling from each other. But even as that thought seemed to pass between them, Beth couldn’t help but stubbornly reach up for his hand again. Her heart threatened to skip a beat as he relented with an awkward huff to her intertwining their hands and pulling him toward her.

While he seemed to stumble, Beth turned back toward the road. Stiffening her shoulders against the return of the roller-coaster of emotions, she put his hand back on her left shoulder and raised the rifle. Determined to hit the center this time, Beth pushed down the flipping of her stomach.

It was two more shots before she managed to let out an easy breath. Three more found the center of the tree to the clapping of the audience she’d all but forgotten before she heard the moan of another walker. But as she turned to check the sights, she noticed it was coming from the right fence. She was not ready to risk shooting near her family. The very thought had her shifting her right hand up to hold the weight of the rifle; her left-hand grabbing hold of the unmoving fingers on her shoulder.

“I’m gettin’ good at this. Pretty soon, I won’t need you at all.” She teased with a short chuckle. Putting her left cheek over the scorching heat of the back of his hand, to which she was rewarded when he finally moved again. Both her shoulders now under his hands she twisted her neck halfheartedly to glance behind her in encouragement to his muttered ‘hmm’.

But it was the way he leaned his forehead against the crown of her head that had her taking a deep breath. He couldn’t keep doing this to her. She just told him what his proximity did to her nerves. But here he was, moving to warm the cold chill that had settled into her bones once again. Distractedly she realized there was more than one walker on the right fence, but it was all she could do not to drop the rifle in her grasp.

Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth she tried not to lean into his warmth, but she’d had enough. Her emotions were bruised and bloody from the last hour and she’d blame that for tilting her head to the left. She’d blame that for laying the rifle to lean on the rail and sweeping her hair over her right shoulder in the same motion. He didn’t get to whiplash her emotions like this and then continue to crowd her. He didn’t…He shouldn’t be running his thumb across the hollow of her throat like that…

“Da…” She tried, but found only a heavy exhale leaving her lips as Daryl’s chest burned into her shoulders and his thumb continued to then maddeningly circle the juncture of her neck. A shiver worked up her spine that she refused to comply with. A tingling of electricity followed it as she ground her cheek into his right hand. When his thumb was joined by the even and short puffs of air from his lips, Beth found herself grabbing both of his hands painfully hard to stay upright. Her knees shaking, she tried to form words again, but found only a small whimper leave her mouth.

“Beth.” His uneven whisper shot through her as she closed her eyes against the staggering walkers in the distance. The railing cut into her stomach as she attempted to move forward and out from under his hands. This was going to do nothing but embarrass her and she needed to stop turning into gelatin around Daryl. But even as the cold refused to register into her middle, she dragged her bottom lip more firmly into her mouth. It seemed Daryl didn’t seem to want to take the invitation.

Instead she found her hands back on top of both of his and the oxygen from her lungs being driven out by the weight of his chest against her back. A small gasp escaped her as she felt the sharp dig of his belt buckle across her spine. The chill of the afternoon gone she relented to the soft nudge of his nose beneath her left ear. Tilting her head back the way she had, Beth held on as her eyes came open. Was this really happening?

There were six walkers on the fence being put down on both sides now by Carol, Rick, and Carl. All three seemed to sufficiently occupied to notice the gentle drag of Daryl’s nose over the exposed juncture of her throat. But even if they weren’t, Beth found she wouldn’t care. He was…there wasn’t a word for just what seemed to be happening then. Only in her wildest dreams did she sway backward into Daryl’s hands like this. The trail of fire his gentle attentions were leaving would cast even the coldest of months from her memory. But they shouldn’t be doing this. Or should they?

Weeks of questions were swirling to the surface to combat his gentle motions but Beth tried to squash them down as her heart skipped erratically. What did any of it matter anymore? All thought seemed impossible when Daryl’s gentle trail of his nose began its way up behind her ear, nuzzling her softly as if unsure. And how was he unsure? She wanted so badly to run her fingers through his hair and beg him to kiss the skin under his breath. The goosebumps over her entire body were begging to be soothed, but only by him.

With a heavy swallow, Beth then found herself matching his unsure motion as her hands tightened around his fingers. Almost having forgotten she still had his hands in her own, she squeezed a few times to focus the blood from her face to her digits. Daryl didn’t seem to notice as his even and calm breathing continued to get lost somewhere behind her left ear. With a sharp intake of breath Beth rallied her courage against the doubts of their relationship.

She was moving their left hands before he could pull himself from her and declare they were making a mistake. Slowly, very afraid she was making a wrong move by pushing him, Beth inched their hands over her collarbone. The calm and even exhales behind her seemed to freeze. But a slow trickle of goosebumps followed their death gripped fingers over the soft cotton of her sweater. Arching her back only a small bit to advance her movement, Beth finally released her bottom lip to clench her jaw.

His fingertips grazed the clothed but raised hardness of her nipple before she settled their hands-on top of herself. Her breathing turned ragged as she found her eyes clenching shut again. All she could do was lean backward into his warmth. Letting go of his fingers was almost a herculean task since she’d lost all feeling in her own, but Beth managed it with a sharp exhale.

Did she push too far? She tried to take it as a good sign when he didn’t move then, but perhaps not the best one. Squeezing the right hand still intertwined with her own encouragingly she tried not to cower under his inaction. She could have patience, even if her every muscle was coiling in anticipation. At least she thought she could as her knees continued to shake and wondered briefly if the railing was the only thing holding her up.

But when he shook off her right hand, Beth blanched. Mortification set in quickly against the boiling of her skin until his arm wove around her hips under the railing. Her knees seemed to give out then as all she could do was hold onto his steadying grip and try to stop a soft moan at the gentle rock of his left hand. His large hand seemed to swallow her breast as he had room to spread his fingers along the tip of her sternum in his hesitant exploration. But just as she felt better about pushing, she found herself calling his name in utter disbelief.

“Daryl!” She snapped, as her hands made a mad dash for the railing in an attempt not to fall. The single step he took back from her seemed entirely too aggressive as he cursed.

“Fuckin audience, Greene. What the fuck ya playin’ at?!” He seethed, grabbing the rifle she’d all but forgotten beside her. Her eyes widened as she turned to watch him slam the tower door behind him. What was she playing at? He had to be fucking kidding, right? Throwing a blushing glance down into the yard, she reassured herself that no one was even looking in their direction.

Dead walkers were starting to pile up along the fence line, but Beth doubted there was more than five or six. But Carol, Rick, and Carl still seemed plenty busy. Which shouldn’t excuse her lack of judgement, but it still had her wanting to throw that fact in Daryl’s face. He pushed her first! Storming after him, Beth let the door slam just as loudly as he had.

“No one was lookin’ at us, Daryl! I’m sick of your bullshi…” She screamed, finding her hands clenching against her emotions until she was silenced.

As thoughts of their first kiss went, Beth couldn’t say she predicted or even thought he would instigate it quite as aggressively as he chose. But as his hands took hold of both sides of her face and his lips crashed down onto her own, she was far from complaining at the bruising force. Startled perhaps, but not complaining. Raising up to her tip toes to ease the bend in his spine she threw herself up into his hands.

Her own migrated to his hair for an anchor as he tilted her as far up toward him as she could go. The strands of his chocolate locks were blessedly just as she remembered them. Attempting to match his demanding attention, Beth gave herself over to the anger that simmered between their lips. Whether her own, or his she wasn’t sure but it didn’t seem to matter as she lost dominance in their kiss within half a moment.

Hanging onto him as his beard scratched across her chin in waves of sensation, Beth let him tear a whimper from her lungs. His tongue seemed to swallow the sound at the opening of her lips, but it seemed to lessen the deadly charge in the way they clung to each other. Slowly, torturously slowly, Beth found her mind coming back to her as Daryl lightened the desperate hold, they had on each other.  
Where his lips had bruised, he began to pull hers between his teeth. Rolling her bottom lip calmly before he pulled back from her, both gasping for air. As she hadn’t realized her eyes had closed, she opened them to meet his startled gaze after a gentle drag of his thumb. Had he not meant to do that?

“Beth” He exhaled and despite the soft tones of a warning wrapping around them, she ignored him. Pushing off her feet once more she pressed an insistent, yet soft, kiss to his tightly drawn lips. Her heart refused to stay in her chest as she found herself doing so again. Nervous anticipation coiled in her lower abdomen as she pulled encouragingly onto the locks in her fingers. Her mind escaping her as sensation became her only knowledge. And despite his rigidness under the gentle exploration of her hands, Beth could only watch as his eyes closed.

Pressing another closed kiss to his lips, Beth found her left hand sliding down to run her thumb over his jawbone before he seemed to lose the fight with whatever was keeping them apart. Allowing him to tug her more fully by the hands still on either side of her face she did not resist when his lips began to lead her once more into a dance of caresses. However, a contented sigh did escape her as time melded away under his attention. Slowly she caressed his jaw in time with their continued embrace.

Electricity threatened to pull her from under his hands as all the world disappeared. Utter bliss cascaded across her limbs under the soft press of his lips as he continued, one after the other. But it was only when his hands moved from guiding her jaw that she truly lost her footing. Unable and unwilling to leave his gentle kissing, Beth swayed into the burning desire of his hold on first her shoulders and then her hips as his fingers left the briefest of touches down her sides.

Another whimper was embarrassingly torn from her throat as her skin began to burn where he’d touched. But instead of let him swallow it, Beth swayed upward once more. A new demand coaxing her to try and push him forward once again.

She needed to breath…but did she really? Daryl was consuming her and Beth wanted…more. She wanted more. Was there more? Because even as he gave in and the slow caress of his lips began to press more urgently into her own Beth wasn’t sure she would survive it.

How could she be cold, and blazing at once? It didn’t make sense but she found herself ripping her hands from Daryl’s head and hurriedly pushing them down the buttons of his shirt. Nothing was going to be okay until she was fully encased in his warmth. In his hands. In his arms.

Ripping buttons apart in a desperate search for more contact, Beth gasped in greedily as Daryl pulled his lips from her. Meeting his forehead with her own she gulped in the air she denied herself, even as her fingers continued their attempt to rid him of the obstacle to her relief. She tried not to let her now opened eyes trail over his own gaze since he watched her movements but the heat coursing through her would not be denied.

Throwing his shirt from his shoulders was more difficult than she wanted it to be as she attempted to push the wings from his back in the same motion, but Beth was determined. It seemed he had no objection when a simple shrug of his shoulders had him moving away from her. But dread climbed to life against the white noise of her brain. Why was he pulling away from her? No, he couldn’t pull away now. She wouldn’t survive that.

Oh…his crossbow. How had she forgotten? Feeling a bit chastised, Beth breathed heavily through her nose. Without him, she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing once again. The unsure hesitation in his movements was hard for her to watch, but she managed a small smile for his frown when he heaved the weapon over his head. When it clattered to the floor along with his vest and the enticingly open shirt Beth found herself reaching out her hand to him again.

To her utter amazement and pure delight, he didn’t hesitate to take it this time. But he was abusing her lungs in the most delicious torture when she found him mimicking her actions on the balcony. His skin was burning as the fingertips of her right hand were guided down the spattering of tiny scars and hours of endless hard work before settling flush against his abs. An unsteady exhale left her lips as she brought her other now hopelessly dangling hand to follow the smooth lines along side the wrist in his sweating grip.

Holding his burning gaze was challenging as she wanted so much to watch the trail of her hand, but Beth found she couldn’t pull away. She had no doubt he could see everything she’d tried to hide in the last weeks swimming behind her gaze, but his own seemed just as intense to her delight. Gone was the hesitation, and the embarrassment between them. Nothing else mattered but right then. If she could just memorize the heated and open look in his eyes, she’d never be cold again. But he was to far away, even as her hand was exploring his chest in even strokes, up and down, he held only her single wrist.

She decided there were still too many barriers between them. She was quick in displacing his grip, but closed the step between them in reassurance at the twitch of uncertainty bubbling in the dilated pupils of his stare. Tugging her sweater up without a care to how it would look, Beth tossed it onto the floor and pulled him as close as she could get in a single motion. The inferno singing in her veins returned as he pulled her just as tightly into his naked chest. She was only pulling back to rip her sports bra off then, but Beth caught a gasp when the motion was refused by the steel of his arms.

“Daryl.” She found herself sighing blissfully as his fingertips began exploring the smooth skin of her lower back. Tucking her head into the hard planes of muscle over his heart was oddly soothing. But how was it his hands were so large? As his callouses began to work the goosebumps along her spine, Beth tried to match his wandering hands but found she could do little but hang onto Daryl. The shaking in her knees refused to cooperate as his nose returned to the naked skin of her shoulder.

Rolling her lips together in a desperate attempt not to pull every walker below them she could do little but close her eyes and revel in the gentle glide of both his hands and lips. But when his teeth scratched at the hollow of her throat, Beth found the moan tearing from her lips with a gasp to accompany the sudden jerk of his shoulders. She should have hesitated. She knew that, but everything in her refused to do so. Jumping into his arms at his single move, Beth found her shaking knees tightly wrapping around the friction inducing jeans at his hips.

He didn’t seem as surprised as she was as his hands settled heavily under her ass to keep her from falling. Grabbing desperately at his towering shoulders, Beth found herself demanding his kiss once more. The pressure of his hold did nothing to dampen the desire to both her irritation and delight.

Though it did seem to have the added bonus of a delightedly torturous friction where she most desired it. The knowledge that she seemed to have the same effect on Daryl did not by pass her attention. Instead she found herself clinging as tightly as she was able, grinding herself into the hard edge of his trapped desire.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Girl.” He shakenly muttered in response, taking two jostling steps forward even as Beth opened her mouth to complain. Squeaking under his attempt to silence her with his kiss, she no less wiggled in irritation when her back landed heavily onto the slopped surface of the long dead computer controls. The itching dust of keys dug into the flesh of her back, but Beth refused to release Daryl.

Digging her fingers into his shoulders as it seemed he wouldn’t allow her to speak she threw her hips forward in retaliation. The gruff rumbling, she achieved from the depths of his chest settled over her heavily, chasing away the grinding of the gate’s controls.

She moaned in protest when she found she was stopped from repeating the shifting of her hips by the now bruising grip of his hands. Her lungs were burning from lack of oxygen as he tore himself from them but she refused to unlock her herself from around him. The cold chill of the day made her shiver as he leaned his weight away from her, but Beth frowned and attempted to pull him back down to her. She succeeded in tangling her fingers back into his hair but found she could do little more than that when his intentions became clear.

The goosebumps returned to spread across her exposed flesh when his kiss swollen lips explored her collarbone. The gentle drag of his tongue tore a strangled gasp from her throat as she arched into his touch, only anchored by the death grip of her thighs across his waist.

“Daryl.” She found herself saying, unable to form another syllable of encouragement.

“Hmm.” His rasping groan vibrated through her sore ribcage as his lips began to trace down the skin in his reach. The ghosting of his breath over the fabric still restraining her made her try to buck her hips once more. But when she was denied the motion she groaned in frustration. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Beth left one hand in his hair to pull him more harshly against her. The drag of his beard across the edges of her bra left a whimper on her lips he didn’t acknowledge. Instead she huffed as his lips continued further, a gentle kiss gliding across her clenching stomach.

“Daryl.” She protested again when he shoved against the flickering of her hips. Fine, two could play that game. Pushing him away, Beth found her hands reaching for his belt buckle before she could register the frown marring his face. His hands finally left their restraint, but Beth found herself freezing as they wrapped around her wrists painfully. A sudden chill of realization seemed to wash over them both as neither could move. His belt undone under hands was heavy as his ragged breath registered to her over wrought nerves. A shiver marred across the fading trails of his lips against her exposed flesh not owing to the cold.

“Daryl…” She tried, the only heat left settled on her face and against the hard strain between them.

“This ain’t fuckin’, Greene. I ain’t done this shit. You shouldn’t…I ain’t…y’r’ Pops…gotta’ fuckin’ stop this shit.” He trailed off barely above a whisper, but Beth tilted her now aching neck to the side in an attempt to see his face for his hair.

It seemed he was transfixed by her now stiff grip of leather and refused to pick his eyes back up to her. Why did that break her heart? What was it about the way he said that, that had her aching to slide her arms around him? There was such…doubt…self-deprecation in the way he told her to stop. She chose to ignore the excuse of her father. She’d have to tackle that later and she was not looking forward to such an awkward conversation. But Daryl couldn’t be worried anyone would be mad at him, right? No, her father loved him like a son. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he know she wanted him only because he was Daryl Dixon?

“I…I’m sorry.” She whispered as well, her knuckles popping from the strain of her mortification as she slowly retracted her fingers. His sigh reassured her she hadn’t completely messed whatever this was up, but only when she was able to run her hands up his arms and shoulders did, she feel better.

“What tha’ fuck, ya doin’ ta me, Girl?” He snapped, but the tense set of his muscles under her hands was what made Beth flinch.

At least she didn’t have to explain herself as a deafening clang of metal echoed up to the pair only muffled by the trap door somewhere behind them. Her half naked state seemed to come back to her with a start then, her legs going slack as Daryl made to move away from her. But he was lifting the trap door, still amazingly without his shirt before she was able to lean off the surface holding her up.

“Daryl? Dad, needs you! Michonne’s back!” Carl’s voice echoed up the stairs as Beth’s eyes frantically searched for her sweater. He wasn’t going to come up right?! Residual heat refused to leave her core or face but she did manage to keep her eyes to herself a brief moment as they both reached for their discarded clothes. Tucking her hands into the overly stretched arms of cotton, Beth couldn’t help but let her eyes flicker to Daryl. His hands seemed to slip on the buttons of his shirt, but it was his refusal to meet her eye that truly held her attention.

“Yes or no.” She snapped, tucking her arms around herself before she even realized she’d spoken. His crossbow was landing heavily on his back before he acknowledged she was still there with a grunt.  


“Daryl! Dad says it’s bad! He needs you!” Carl’s voice echoed once more up the stairs to her irritation.

“I fuckin’ heard ya. Im’ comin’.” Daryl hollered down the open door, kicking the heavy metal for emphasis. The resulting echo did little for her nerves as she attempted to steel herself for the conversation they’d avoided at all costs. Because now…now they had to do this.

“Do you want…” _Me? A relationship? To be with me?_ “…this?” She finished, shrugging one shoulder when her own eyes betrayed her. There were so many things they needed to talk about. His worry about her father. Her confusion. Anything and everything needed an answer now. There was no avoiding this anymore.

What were they doing? How did they go from casual to this to…what happened now? Was he going to pull away from her the whole time? How did he make the world disappear? Was that normal? Did she do the same for him? His rather awkward stance told her she at least had some effect on him, but was it enough? Could he be with her? Would he be with her? What was she to him?  


The concrete beneath her feet wasn’t as dirty as she remembered, and she stared as she desperately tried to distract herself from the incoming pain of his rejection. She wondered who she should thank for sweeping, but she’d have to tell them they missed a spot as her back itched. But she found her eyes dragging upward at the soft and hurried steps her ears zeroed in on against her wishes.  
Startled she let him crowd her into the wall, half falling into it, before she could find a protest under his kiss. The gentle drag of his kiss swollen lips against her settled frown wasn’t enough. The scrape of his knuckle down her cheek wasn’t enough after this. _Yes or No_.

One kiss was not enough after everything, but Beth sagged against the wall as he was tearing away from her. She found she could only put a hand over her abused and racing heart. She watched as he disappeared down the ladder to Carl’s continued call. What the hell just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wall between them is crumbling now as things come full circle next chapter.


	6. What Happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, Angst, and more Angst.

Every day she woke up hoping Daryl would walk through the gates she stared at, but yet again this morning he hadn’t appeared to her depression. They had been gone too long. Three weeks was too long. Something had to have happened to them and the thought was hard to shake from her every waking moment. Even as the sun began to set on another day and she was walking the balcony to calm the youngest Grimes she found herself wishing the day wouldn’t end. That there wasn’t one more day to add to the tally of days between when she’d last seen Daryl and Rick. Judith seemed to pick up on her bad mood, but Beth could do little but rock the baby in her arms absently. Pulling the small beanie down gently over Judith’s head, Beth turned her ears to the argument she couldn’t quite bring herself to get involved in yet. 

It seemed she wasn’t the only one worried about Daryl, Rick, and Michonne as she caught the hushed conversation below the balcony. Glen wanted to go look for them, but why was her daddy saying no? Everything in her agreed with Glen as she passed Daryl’s cold and lifeless cell for the millionth time. But if she went down there, she knew the pain would come back. 

The unanswered question would start to coil into her soul. Because the longer she thought about it…she thought he’d given her an answer…but she could be wrong. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the gentle graze of his kiss and feel the cold of the concrete behind her back. But she wasn’t an expert on Daryl Dixon. Well, she might have been one of the closest things these days. That didn’t mean she could trust her own assumptions. Not when she really wanted the answer, she thought she got. Because if he came back and told her making out with her had been a mistake…that would almost be more painful than this.

Absently she found her hands going to the added weight of the hunting knife hanging from her belt. It was a maddening habit, and she knew she’d worn out a streak of leather down the curve of the knifes sheath but she couldn’t help it. It had come with a tease from Carl, but it had taken everything in her not to ask for Daryl’s specific words. He said you’d need it since your aim sucked. What had that meant? 

Somehow, she thought that meant more than a tease at her target practice skills. He knew damn well her aim was off from his pushing…and he’d been the one to push first that day. No matter what he threw at her, when he got his annoying presence back inside the fence, she was going to remind him of that fact. She told him what he was doing. Which he should have known. The more she thought about it these days, the more she’d realized he had known. 

He’d known exactly what running his hands up her back would do. That calling her name that way would make her knees shake. How she could have ever thought he’d forgotten what he did to her she had no clue. She had way too much time to think about this. It was now her most and least favorite hobby. Which hadn’t questions about Daryl been distracting her far longer than they should now?  
Running her hands over the sharp blade every night was also beginning to become a frightening habit. But there was no sleeping peacefully when Daryl could be dead. Not when she wanted to just see him. To just hold him like she had that night in his bunk. To feel him breathing under her hands and know he was alive. That was what had finally broken that last barrier on her own feelings after all. She’d fallen in love with him that night. She hadn’t known it then, but as she’d laid awake until exhaustion over took her for weeks now; she knew. 

She couldn’t let it back in. She’d spent weeks replaying his every exhale in agonizing detail before the pain became too much. The dark circles under her eyes were easy to blame on the infant in her grasp, after all. When you cared about people, hurt was part of the package, she knew that but this was agony.

Adding to that was the fact she didn’t think she could tell anyone. At least until she had Daryl’s actual answer. He’d thrown her father at her. He’d used their family as an excuse against her. Which even now continued to hurt. How did she explain to Maggie, or her father, that she had fallen in love with Daryl Dixon? The same man they’d all seen everyday for nearly two years.

As far as anyone knew they had an easy friendship. And that was it. They had two years of familiarity. She doubted anyone even thought much of the way they’d gotten so comfortable which each other in the last months. It was a normal kind of affection to the rest of the world. But there was never anything normal about Daryl, or the world anymore for that matter. At least it didn’t seem normal that they hadn’t needed to say anything until now. It wasn’t normal that she knew what he wanted with a simple tug of her hair or the reassurances of one short shoulder pat. How could she explain how the world melted around him? That in one gentle shove of his shoulder she felt better? That she was proud of herself for making him smile, or laugh? They had known each other for years now, but she couldn’t explain the way things had shifted. How did she explain how much it physically hurt not to turn around and find him there?

But the longer he was gone, the further away his words became. The harder it was to hold onto any kind of hope. And as she reminded herself of that against the argument ringing in her ears, she could do little but continue to punish the leather under her fingers. Judith wasn’t as happy about her new addition as she was, but Beth jostled her playfully when she’d want to switch sides and be denied.

She couldn’t leave it in her cell. It had gotten her a few looks to continue to carry Daryl’s hunting knife but she just didn’t care anymore. This was his affection and she knew that. Just the same as she’d known the first time, she saw that pile of jerky on her desk. She may not be the expert but she knew him. Maybe not as well as Carol, the only one she’d call an actual master on all things Daryl, but even the other woman had given her a sad smile when she’d woven it onto her belt.

If she lost the small thread of hope she was desperately clinging onto, she didn’t know if she’d be able to come back from it this time. Sure, she would trudge her feet forward as she’d been doing for weeks now, but her heart wouldn’t survive losing Daryl like this. Not when she could feel the phantom tug of his lips. Not when the world had finally been okay, if only for a minute sitting next to him in the courtyard. Not when she let him in…not when she loved him so hard. Because if she’d managed to come to any conclusion with his absence, it was that she really was in love with him. And wasn’t that the most inconvenient thing to actually figure out when the man was out risking his life. When she couldn’t do anything but rock Judith back and forth.

No, if she went down there and voiced her objection, they would lie to her. They would at least try to. Because the truth very well could be, they were dead. But no one wanted to say it. If she went down there, they might finally give up the lie. And that lie was the only thing holding her together…

She’d thought nothing would get his hands and his lips from her mind when he’d left, but this was a new sort of torture. To have the memory of his kiss and not get to so much as see him again was driving her mad. And was it always going to be this way now? Waiting helplessly for him to come back? 

Waiting…and waiting…for someone to tell her he’d died like Zach. Had this been the reaction he’d expected that day? If he thought losing Zach would tear her apart like this, he was sorely mistaken. He was the only one that would do this to her. Because she’d let him in. How it happened, she wasn’t even sure. Because somewhere over the last months of gentle affection she’d grown to love him more than she should. This wasn’t Zach…this was Daryl. And would anyone actually understand her if she said that out loud?

She was in love with the gruff and sweet redneck that rode up to her family farm on the loudest Harley she’d ever heard. The man that took on more than his fair share simply because of his code. The man that went out of his way to make sure she didn’t have to eat pop tarts every day just because he could. The man that thought nothing of fending off walkers just so she’d have a clearer target to practice what was bothering her. The man whose laugh was rare but chased away all the bitter sounds of continued death. The man that needed to get his ass back to her and answer one simple question! She didn’t need most words, even if the ones he gave her were buried in her soul, she just needed him.

Was she going to be forced to live the rest of her life wondering what happened to him? Wondering just what could have been? Wondering what the answer would have been? Wondering how mad he’d be if she decided she wanted to stay on the fence? Or worse, leave the prison.

If she wanted to go out there with him, he would have a fit. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine his scowl to her request. She could imagine the hurtful things he’d try and throw at her to get her back into their home. Things that wouldn’t work she knew. She’d watch him, knowing full well nothing he said in anger meant anything, even if he could scare ninety nine percent of the remaining world’s population. 

Daryl wouldn’t hurt her…not on purpose. Would she stumble on his face one day, walking toward her in a ravenous hunger to consume her soul with a dead glare? She had heard through the whispers of their family that he’d had to suffer that with Merle. Could she put Daryl down the same way? Was she going to have to raise Judith without both of her parents? Her hope was starting to dwindle as she pulled her gaze back from the shower curtain dangling almost harmlessly beside her.

“Shh…” She attempted to sooth, even as she knew she was the cause of Judith’s fussing. It hadn’t escaped the rest of her families notice that she chose to distance herself from them as time dragged on. Sure, she could still smile for them and had even managed a song yesterday at her daddy’s request, but there was only peace in clinging to Judith. In finally realizing they trusted her to look after the youngest Grimes, not because they had to. But because they could. The shot she’d fired at Tommy had been good for at least one thing it seemed. Even if that knowledge had only come to her after Daryl’s target practice. 

They were getting good at giving her space after her stint on the fence, but she doubted any of them truly knew what had her twisted into knots. She probably had Daryl to thank for the space she was currently enjoying. Whatever he’d said to Maggie had definitely left an impact as even her sister was not hovering today. Though none of them would know why she’d given up her never-ending vigil on the chain link a week after Daryl left. 

The fact that Daryl had let her make that decision, when he disagreed with it, still warmed her heart. He very well could have followed through on his threat to haul her back inside. Of all the prisons inhabitants, Daryl was the most likely to do so after all. But there was a trust in the hunting knife now weighing down her hip. He trusted her to use it at the very least. She knew he trusted her to make her own decisions, at least this one, which at nineteen she was fairly certain it was beyond time the rest of their family do the same. Could she make that clearer to them when one gentle nudge of her father’s shoulder had her obeying as she had since infancy? She wasn’t Maggie, who had snuck out and met boys well before the world ended. She hadn’t tried drugs or cigarettes, though she wondered sometimes if Daryl might rectify that last one some time. Would they trust her decision to fall in love with Daryl like she thought they would? Even if it seemed to have been an unconscious decision at best. Daryl hadn’t thought so when he threw her father at her, but Beth found herself sighing. It didn’t seem right to tell her family something had changed, whether within herself or her relationship with Daryl.

It wasn’t that she found herself ashamed of making out with Daryl in the guard tower, far from it, but it almost became her treasured secret. Something only, she had to hold onto to. Something they couldn’t take from her even if she knew they wouldn’t try. This was Daryl after all. Yes, the reasons on paper she’d gone over a hundred times still applied but…this was Daryl. And yet no matter how many times she replayed the sheer affection in his eyes, each time was becoming more painful. 

She couldn’t give up the lie. She just couldn’t hear them make plans about days without Daryl. But at least Maggie was talking to her again even if Daryl’s haunting voice had been what finally drove her back inside. A decision she made. Not her family.

“We can’t just leave them!” Glen’s frustrated cry tore through the small vein of hope, Beth was trying to hold onto. This was Daryl. She just had to keep telling herself that. This was Rick, and Michonne. They were the fiercest warriors she’d ever met and would undoubtably ever know. Clutching Judith against the stab of pain to her ribs where his lips now haunted her, Beth tried to turn her ears from them.

“We only know the direction they went. We wouldn’t’ find ‘em. They need us here.” Her father was counseling but Beth could hear the resigned patience he’d been treating them all to since Rick’s departure coloring his tone. Running the prison was wearing on him, and Beth couldn’t say she was surprised.

“They went after the guys that dragged ‘em. We find them, we find our people!” Glen tried to reason, but Beth knew when her father had that tone the argument was over.  
“Son, I admire what you wanna do, I do. But we need you here.” 

“Glen, Daddy has a point. This is Daryl and Rick. They wouldn’t want us out there without knowin’ where we was goin’.” Maggie interjected, the softness of her voice tearing at Beth’s nerves. 

Maggie knew as well as Beth did that her father wasn’t going to budge. But she flinched because she was right. No one would want them risking such a thing. Certainly not Daryl or Rick. She could hear the insults Daryl would throw if he ever found out they thought about abandoning the prison for even a second to look for them. She doubted Michonne even thought they would look for her some days with the long stretches she spent beyond the fence. But they all would. The slamming echo of something hitting a wall made her flinch again, but Beth swayed closer to Daryl’s empty safe haven. She couldn’t listen to this anymore.

“Maggie, can you take Judy? I wanna get something outta the garden for dinner.” She called into the open space her feet took her into, the stairs clanking loudly under her boots.  
Glen was hunched over the furthest wall, but Beth refused to look at him. She couldn’t. It hurt too much. Maggie seemed grateful for the distraction, but her father seemed more desperate for an escape. She couldn’t blame him. This was their family they were talking about. There was a guilt sitting on his shoulders she doubted she could ease. 

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll join you.” Herschel tried to give her a smile, but as she handed Judith off Beth found she couldn’t quite return it. Maybe some alone time was what Glen and Maggie truly needed. Judith would work her magic, Beth was sure. The youngest Grimes always had a way of softening those around her. It seemed the thought of separating crossed everyone’s mind as the tiniest squeak emitted from her father’s artificial leg. 

The October cold settled against her pain as she pulled her arms in closer to her. Without a further word she made her way over to the pumpkin patch she’d been tending for months. Reassuring herself Tyreese was watching over them, she set to picking the largest of the crop. Trying desperately to focus only on the movement of her own hands and not let her eyes wander to the gate again.  
“We’ll make a farmer oughta, yet. It’s in your blood.” Her father teased, his hands turning over the wild vines before he playfully smeared a bit of dirt onto her cheek when she looked his way. The silence seeming to have stretched on an eternity.

“Daddy.” She whined playfully, her lips tilting despite the worry lingering in her soul. The pumpkin in her hands wouldn’t have passed a grocery store check, but Beth found she was no less proud since it would feed them none the less. And that was all that mattered. Perfection had long faded from the world.

“There, now ya look the part.” The affectionate smile that greeted her seemed to pull the rest of hers to the surface.

“I know this is hard on ya, Doodlebug.” He reassured after a moment of continuing silence in which they worked. The vine beneath her fingers seemed to slip from her grasp. 

Did he know? Looking up at him she hesitated to say anything at the reassuring pat on her shoulder. Was she that obvious? No, he couldn’t know. This was her secret. She hadn’t found the courage to have this conversation with him yet. Realistically she knew she should have by now. It had seemed like one of Daryl’s biggest concerns if she could go by the guard tower, but even now she found herself looking for a distraction, but not finding one.

“You know if there is anythin’ you wanta tal’k about… you can always talk to me, Baby. You know, that right?” Herschel’s calm and almost expectant voice swarmed her frayed nerves. Beth found her shoulders tensing, but forced herself to keep the smile on her face. She wasn’t ready to let this secret out. 

After all, maybe Daryl had been right about her father. Would he really disapprove of a relationship between them? She didn’t think so, but with him gone she didn’t think she had the strength to break down right now. If Daryl really was dead, maybe she could at least save herself some pain in not ever letting anyone know how much it hurt. But Herschel hadn’t had a problem with Zach, but would the age gap sway him? She knew Maggie would have a problem with it at the very least. What would everyone else say? She wasn’t naïve, everyone would have an opinion and despite that she still didn’t care. The only person that could stop her, that could give her a moments pain would be the man with his hand on her shoulder. No, she couldn’t have this conversation with her father yet. And it was yet, because Daryl had said yes. Right?

“I’m fine, Daddy.” She found herself answering even though she didn’t want to. She desperately missed her mother’s voice. Maggie wouldn’t understand and she just couldn’t talk about this with her father. It would have been awkward enough to discuss wanting to kiss Daryl, wanting… with her mother, let alone her father. Ducking her head over the pumpkins in her grasp seemed the only way to get away from the expectant gaze of her father. How did you tell your father you were in love with a man twice your age? But how was she supposed to be trusted to make her own decisions if she couldn’t? As he waited for her to elaborate, both knowing she was lying, the words died in her mouth.

No, her mother would have understood. She would have been patient and kind to all of Beth’s questions and feelings. Much the same way she had when she’d started dating Jimmy. Of course, that had been awkward in itself, but this would be a hundred times worse. But Shawn wasn’t here to threaten Daryl like he’d done Jimmy. And Daryl wasn’t here to get threatened like Glen. None of this was normal.  
His gentle but irritatingly calm sigh seemed to be the only answer she would get for her refusal, but it did reassure her he probably didn’t know what had happened in the guard tower. She had no doubt he’d have been furious with her if he did. She could still remember the lectures of disapproval and disappointment she’d heard wafting up the farm house stairs to the teenaged Maggie. He hadn’t been thrilled with Maggie and Glen at first either. But…maybe that wasn’t fair? 

Watching her father quietly accept her decision not to acknowledge the space she’d needed made her want to talk to him. She’d already told herself she wasn’t ashamed of her feelings, but…speaking them out loud seemed a bit ridiculous. Maybe that was why she and Daryl seemed to have clashed together like they were. Daryl didn’t need words. No, the guard tower was still her secret. Well, hers and Daryl’s. But she couldn’t stop an almost forgotten heat from tickling her face. No, none of them needed to know she’d made out with Daryl the night he left. Daryl probably would have been horrified to learn she even thought about telling anyone. Let alone that she was firmly in love with him.

Reaching for the vine of another pumpkin, Beth tried to find anything to get herself out of this conversation. How exactly was she supposed to tell her father of all people, that she was in love? How did she tell him how she felt when she wasn’t even sure herself that Daryl would even come back? When she wasn’t sure just what was actually going on?

“I might be slow, Baby, but I’m not blind.” He chuckled, but whether he had nothing else to add or could see the awkward set of his daughter’s shoulders, he trailed off thankfully. She winced despite trying desperately to avoid letting herself slip. And since when was she answering him as Daryl might; with a hum. Though to her gratitude it seemed to work when they continued in silence. Stealing a few almost panicked glances his way, Beth slowly let herself relax when he didn’t push further. 

No, she couldn’t let this pain back in. Daryl Dixon had to stay outside. She had a job to do…even if none of it felt important. Lying to her father was just a means to an end. She could reassure herself of that. She’d talk to him…when there was something to talk about.

Arms and wheelbarrow full of course pumpkins, Beth ducked her head at the gentle affection in her father’s eyes nearly a half hour later. She couldn’t fall apart under that stare no matter how she wanted to. Trudging forward all thoughts of Daryl had to stay beyond the fence behind her. Even now she could hear his voice as if a phantom telling her to “move her damn feet”, or that he “wasn’t worth the worry”. 

She managed that maybe twenty minutes into washing and slicing before she let her eyes flicker to the gate. The kids now surrounding her did a good job of distracting her thankfully. Pulling out pumpkin guts had always been her favorite Halloween activity too. She got the impression Carol had done this with Sophia at the practiced ease the older woman took to corralling the prisons youngest inmates into the courtyard for the spur of the moment fun. Normally Beth knew she’d be right next to her, taking Judith from Maggie when she greeted them with a sad smile to join in the squishing fun, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

But being careful to contain the fire before her in the jerry-rigged barbeque did work a little better at distracting her. Until she was forced to roast her bounty. Because no matter how she cursed herself the thoughts of jerky were to fresh. How was he everywhere she turned? Was he going to haunt her for the rest of her life? No. No more thoughts of Daryl or the way he’d lit her world on fire only to tear it down. If she stirred the soup a little more aggressively than she ought or slammed the pot on the grate to hard, her father said nothing. Cinnamon…she needed…

With a gentle smile for him, Beth thanked her father as he handed her first cinnamon and then nutmeg without a question. The peeling labels scratched at her hand but it gave her something else to do. After seasoning the soup to the best of her ability, picking those tiny flakes of paper certainly kept her hands busy. Maybe she was that obvious…She gave him a sad smile to go with the affectionate kiss to her temple. Yeah, she was probably that obvious. But thankfully no one seemed to say anything if her eyes kept going to the gate every once in a while. The excited exclamations of the kids trying to separate pumpkin seeds lulled her away every once in a while, but Beth couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. 

“Beth! Beth! Look!” A small giggling torpedo of blonde hair exclaimed before Beth took her eyes from the flames. Reaching out a hand to block the little girl from getting to close to the fire without thought she plastered a smile to her face. It wasn’t as real as she wanted it to be, and she knew her family gave her side long glances at the small wince behind the gesture but Beth smiled none the less.  
“That’s so cool Mika. Did you show Liz?” Beth exclaimed at the sticky trails of pumpkin guts splattered across the young girl’s hand in what she assumed was meant to resemble a flower.

“She said it was dumb…but I think it’s pretty! It’s a cher…chera…it’s a rose, for Carol!” Mika squealed excitedly after only a moment’s hesitation at the dismissal of her sister. Her wince turned into a full-blown frown, but Beth quickly schooled herself. 

“Well, Lizzie’s just jealous. Go show Carol, I’ll bet she’ll love it.” She placated the young girl, smoothing her wild hair out of her eyes so she didn’t end up with more pumpkin guts in her face or ruin her ‘rose’. 

Wait was that a truck engine? Slamming the lid onto the soup and moving it from the grate of the outdoor barbeque she found herself not trusting her ears. The sound of spitting gravel was almost like a phantom across the noisy courtyard. No, she had to be fooling herself. It had to just be more walkers moaning at the happiness around her.

“They’re back.” Herschel’s relieved sigh finally made her turn around. This wasn’t real. This was just another of her daydreams, right? But as Sasha opened the gate for the rusted red pickup truck, Beth couldn’t help but sag against the countertop. Carl’s excited call as the inner fence was pulled for them to enter flooded her senses. She agreed. She was so happy to see that truck she couldn’t move. The pot holders in her hands seemed to weigh six hundred pounds. But if he didn’t get out of that truck she’d fall. This could still be a sick joke of her imagination.

“Rick.” Her father called as both the doors were opened to reveal the haggard men within. Her eyes swept over Daryl greedily as she realized she might still fall over. While she half expected to see him once more caked in mud and blood, something about the way he was carrying himself seemed almost worse than the everyday grime.

“Dad!” Carl called, stopping short of his father for some reason as he crossed the open space. Beth watched the awkward way the young man almost didn’t know whether to hug his father or not but was pulled in after only a half second. Rick was clinging to him as her eyes landed on Daryl once more. She wanted so badly to just ignore everything and everyone and run just like Carl had, but something stilled her. He wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes as their family paced to his side. He wasn’t even returning Carol’s greetings or reacting to the relieved hand her father put on his shoulder. Instead she took in the blankness of his face, eyes pointed firmly into the asphalt and her heart shattered. 

Finally throwing the cloth into a somewhat safe location her feet moved before she could register Maggie asking for her help with the children. Everyone’s relief was palpable as she closed the ten feet between them without stumbling to her gratitude in her unconfident stride. The gentle hum of happiness behind her no longer registered as she saw Daryl flinch away from Carol’s questioning if he was alright. 

“Michonne?” Herschel asked, a heaviness to his question none of them wanted to acknowledge as their eyes took in the absence of the woman in question.

“Needed eyes on them. They’ve been watching us. They…” Rick started but shook his head. His arms seemed to be hurting his son, but Carl said nothing to the obvious turmoil in his father’s voice and demeanor. Her feet stalled as Rick sagged against the truck, bringing his son with him as if he could protect him from something none of them could see. If Daryl’s refusal to pick up his head hadn’t already broken her heart, she knew it would have shattered to see their leader break so badly. This was bad and everything in her said to screw everyone else’s opinions. Screw what they thought of her and Daryl. Screw it, if Daryl didn’t want a relationship with her. Fuck it, all.

She didn’t stop walking until she was in his personal space. Until his downcast eyes could see the tips of her boots. She managed to stop herself a foot from him, but only because she through a quick glance to Carol lingering at his side. His crossbow was fitting exactly as it always was, but something told her it was weighing him down. His shoulders were sagged and if she couldn’t see him for herself, she would swear he was injured. But as her eyes raked in the sight of him greedily once more, she didn’t see any blood. What happened to him? 

Reaching out slowly as if he really could disappear from her vision, Beth let her fingers gently close around his left elbow. Needing to know he was really there. That whatever happened, hadn’t taken him from them. That he was in fact actually alive. 

The contact seemed to snap his eyes from the ground, but Beth didn’t care that she startled him as his gaze was still blank. She didn’t care if he was going to throw her off. She was touching him. He’d been tormenting her every waking thought for a month and he was here and solid. He was here and the flannel beneath her fingers was warm. It seemed he may be understood as his own hand came up to grab her elbow in return. She’d missed him to much not to let her eyes travel every inch of his weary face.

“Get everyone inside. Now.” Rick’s bark of an order made her jump, but Daryl’s iron grip on her elbow centered her feet to the ground. She resisted the urge to wince at his hold, but only just barely.  
“Rick?” Herschel asked, but Beth felt herself swaying more firmly into Daryl’s space instead of prioritizing the seriousness with which her father was answered or that Rick was not messing around with his order. People began to move around her, but Beth found her eyes returning to the blank stare meeting her own with a deep seeded worry. 

“They been watchin’, us.” Was all Rick volunteered before he was all but carrying a sputtering Carl into the cell block with their family. But Daryl wasn’t moving. Beth doubted he was even seeing her at all, or Carol as both women tried to get his attention.

“Daryl?” Beth finally found her voice breaking on his name when it seemed the joyful laughter of children had receded inside behind her. 

“Go inside.” He croaked as if his voice hadn’t been used in days. For all she knew it hadn’t, but Beth found her eyes sweeping him for injuries once more. 

“Let’s do that.” Carol’s gentle coax to the man grabbed Beth’s attention but the thought of moving her feet seemed insurmountable. He was here. He was alive. He was warm and holding onto the cotton of her sleeve as if she might disappear. 

“Naw, be a…be a minute. Go on.” He nodded, finally something flickering behind his blank stare.

“Can you give us a sec…Please?” Beth found herself asking Carol without thinking. But if the way his fingers had flexed against her elbow at the gentle pat Carol had just given her shoulder was any indication, he wanted to reassure himself of her just the same she did. She resisted wincing at the painful dig of his fingers once more, but shuffled her feet restlessly instead.

Meeting Carol’s eye wasn’t hard, but answering the question in them wasn’t so simple. To her surprise though it seemed Carol thought it was a good idea for Beth to cling onto Daryl a little tighter instead of move back into the building with her. A silent conversation went on between Daryl and his best friend, but Beth tried not to pry into the looks they shot one another until the elder woman was gone.

“Get…Get inside Greene. Ain’t safe out h’e’re…” He muttered, but Beth found her dangling and useless hand coming up to slide over the iron grip on her elbow. He didn’t seem to have realized he was holding onto her as tightly as he was when his fingers flexed and released, but his palm stayed glued to the inside of her joint. She might get a bruise from how hard he’d just gripped, but Beth found herself not caring. If anything, it was further proof to her that he was in fact alive. Alive, but deeply disturbed about whatever it was that kept him from them.

“The fence…” she started, finding her voice cracking once more before she could steel herself. 

“The fence is good and Tyreese is in the tower.” She tried to reassure him, even though everything screamed in her to ask him WHAT HAPPENED? What could possibly cause both Rick and Daryl to be so…broken? He hadn’t even had this haunted look about him when he’d dragged Rick back half dead. Daryl was perhaps the strongest man she knew. The apocalypse hadn’t shaken him. They literally ran the risk of becoming walkers every day. People turned on people at the blink of an eye…well the Governor’s one good eye at least. 

But it seemed all of Daryl’s words had left him then. All he could do was stare at her blankly as she ran her thumb in circles across his wrist. Pain and joy were beginning to be constant companions for her when it came to him. It was a bitter sweet thought as she drank in the heat of his skin against the cold of the day. She should ask him what happened…but it seemed her own words were just as hard to find. He was home.

They were no strangers to silence. But this one unnerved Beth. There weren’t any walkers on the fence for one, though the lack of people was distinctly different. Even with the threat of death outside the prison fence the inhabitants of the prison tried their best to be happy. No more than, Beth.

She tried to sing for the children that had just been ushered inside as if at the end of a horse’s reins. She tried to make sure everyone had at least halfway decently clean clothes every day which usually meant something was hanging on the string flapping over the courtyard bridge. She made sure to listen to the worries of their Woodbury neighbors and always tried to keep Judith out of the way. She never realized just how much noise she and the others created when they gardened not ten feet away from where she and Daryl stood. 

Her eyes raked in their unfamiliar and uneasy surroundings, finally moving to close the driver’s door beside them with a quick flick of her hip. She knew it didn’t much matter, but the resounding thud in the otherwise empty courtyard had her forgetting the guard tower. She forgot the question she’d posed him. She forgot his long and painful absence by stepping the one foot between them.

Was he always so tall? She wondered as she craned her neck upward not to collide her chin to his chest, instead pushing her own into the buttons of his flannel. She tried not to bump her head on his own chin. It didn’t seem to matter though as Beth found her hands traveling up his stiff arm and landing more firmly on his shoulders. Every inhale pressed her closer toward him and Beth found her eyes closing in sheer relief. 

The scruff of his beard all but branded her as he finally moved to gently kiss her temple. The motion and action so slight and delicate she wondered briefly if she had imagined it at all. Scrunching her nose, Beth breathed as deeply as she dared. He was here. He smelled like he’d been in the woods for long hard days, but there was comfort in it. Finding herself flexing her grip on his shoulders, Beth found she could do little but lean into him even as his forehead pressed to her own. 

He was home. Daryl came back. She wouldn’t have to worry about if he was dead anymore. She didn’t have to worry about never seeing him again. She couldn’t even find it in herself to ask him to clarify the guard tower. None of it mattered. Not when she could feel the gentle exhale of his lungs against her nose and feel the leather of his vest under her hands. 

“You’re...here.” She couldn’t stop from saying as her nerves quieted and the silence was replaced with the thudding of her heart. Because it was true. Daryl was here. She found the blush that always tinted her skin around him creep up her cheeks at her admission but he was right in front of her. She had her hands grapping his vest as tightly as she’d only dared once months ago as she struggled for air. His grip on her elbow was hot and steady even if his breathing was not. But it was the gentle stroke of his knuckle down her heated cheeks that finally drew her eyes back to his.

He was haunted. There was such…pain in his eyes that Beth had to blink. If it were not for the way he was beginning to twirl a loose lock of her hair around his wandering finger she’d have pulled back startled. What happened to him?! The question seemed to be visible in her eyes, but the pained shake of his head was enough to still her lips. 

Moving on instinct, Beth found her fingers threading through his dirty and matted hair as best she was able at the refusal to answer. If the sharp inhale of his lungs under Beth’s own was anything to go by, she reassured herself he wanted her touch this time. Maybe he wouldn’t later, she knew. He might push her away like he’d done before, but Beth couldn’t stop herself from swiping his bangs from his vision. A task harder than once before as he continued to press his forehead into hers. She imagined it wasn’t entirely comfortable for him given the bend in his neck, but she found her hands running up and down that as well. 

She wanted to comfort him. Every fiber of her wanted to hold him close and never let go again. She knew she was powerless to stop the hurt of the world, but she would try. As if she could will all the love, she held for this man into him by force she let her hands rake up and down the back of his neck. The motion was soothing to her overwrought nerves, but she hoped it was at least a little comfort to him as well. But when he shuttered, she found herself doubtful she was helping him. Maybe she was taking again. The thought stung when his grip left her. She nearly recoiled in pain herself at his rejection but found her eyes widening in panic. 

The fingers she had tangled in his hair moved to support the back of his neck on instinct as he fell to his knees. Her own scuffed boots stepped back without her mind’s acknowledgement. A gasp left her lips as she was pulled down halfway to the ground under his momentum. Her lips opened to call his name, but the heavy pressure of his forehead on her stomach stopped her mid syllable. With a heavily surprised gasp of air, Beth turned her startled gaze to the top of his head. 

His hands found his knees first as they dug into the courtyard’s asphalt in what had to be a painful way from the look of it. But she cradled his head against her, more on instinct than actual thought. He didn’t pull away to her bewilderment, but Beth wasn’t sure if she could have let him either. His breath began to come in heavy puffs of air as she found herself to startled to do more than cradle his head to her now rolling stomach. 

What happened?!

When his left hand finally came up to grasp her hip, Beth let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Tugging his nose further into the depths of her sweater for a brief moment she hugged him as best she could. He didn’t seem to protest, but her heart threatened to tear through her chest. She reminded herself to let him breath before her now frozen fingers returned to gliding through the mess of his hair. 

Where another day the tickling of his breath at her naval would have ripped her in two, today all she could do was look at their quiet surroundings in a slight panic. She continued running her fingers through his hair and gently scrapped her nails down the grit of his neck, but she knew there was little she could do for him. It hurt. It hurt perhaps more than it would have if he rejected her. He was in so much pain she could feel the slump of his shoulders against the tops of her thighs. And all she could do was try to sooth him the best way she knew how. It didn’t feel like enough. 

Even as she tugged him close to her, and let one hand travel further to run over his shoulders, it didn’t feel like enough. If she could take it away, she would, but not even knowing what happened to him, Beth found herself desperately frustrated. Daryl didn’t seem to have an opinion on the way she trailed her hands over his vest, until she felt his grip on her hip tighten, but she did note when he inhaled deeply against her. 

His deep and steady inhales were the one thing she latched onto in their quiet. In…and out…In…and out…She tried to mimic it against the racing of her heart. The panic of his collapse began to slowly ebb from her muscles, but not her nerves. She managed to keep running her hands through his hair, down his neck to his shoulders in smooth trails absently. 

They stayed there so long, nothing but their joined breathing to occupy the courtyard that she wondered why the door hadn’t opened sooner than it did. She found herself leaning over him absently, unthinkingly protecting him from the eyes of whoever sought them. Though her own never left the top of Daryl’s head and her hand never stilled its now soothing trek, she still did not remove her other from pressing him to her. 

Down through his hair to the curve of his ear…then gliding down the back of his skin on first one side and then the other…stopping to rub a circle into the juncture of his neck and throat before gliding across the top of his vest clad shoulders and up again to start over. The motion was so soothing to her, since it was the only thing she could think to do for Daryl, that she didn’t stop when whoever opened the door behind her shut it once more. 

In…and out…their breathing continued as Beth waited for someone to call their attention. But as no one called either of them in several minutes she finally picked her eyes off the still man before her. Sweeping her tired and sad gaze around the courtyard she found they were still alone. Whoever had seen them, seemed to have the better sense to leave them alone. And she was grateful for that, because how she’d explain their current state, she hadn’t the faintest clue. 

Finally pushing at one of Daryl’s imposing shoulders, Beth at last managed to drag Daryl’s eyes back to her own after what she felt was probably at least half an hour. There was still a pain there she didn’t like, but Beth at least felt a little better at the life she saw glinting back at her. He was still in pain, but he was in there now. A little better, however was not enough to reassure her he was okay. She doubted anything was going to make her feel better about whatever happened to him. She ran her thumb over his jaw without thought, her eyes briefly glancing at his lips in a hesitant thought to kiss him, causing his eyes to flutter closed and his head to turn away from her in what seemed like shame. The grip on her hip flexed as if he meant to let go, even as he turned but didn’t and a wince tore apart the blankness of his stare.

No…she couldn’t let that stand. He didn’t get to pull away from her right now. But…something nagged at Beth as she felt his fingers dig into her. Something about the way he couldn’t look at her. He’d done it before the last time she’d held onto him like this. The last time she’d needed to know he was okay. But he wasn’t letting go and he made no move to rise from the ground. If anything, he’d been the one to put his forehead on hers. He was the one that…

How could he think she didn’t want to make all of his pain go away?! How could he not know she cared so damn much for him? How could anyone have beat it into him that comfort wasn’t something to get or want? How could someone tell him he couldn’t be loved?! Because in that wince, Beth finally understood something she hadn’t for a very long time. 

The night she’d fallen in love with this heart-breaking man was tearing her to shreds now. He did want her to touch him. It was there, in his almost desperate hesitation to let go of her hip. It was there in the way he was leaning more of his shoulder into her legs as if she was going to step away. He didn’t want her to let go. He wanted her. She had gotten the answer she thought she did. But he couldn’t say it. Her fingers itched to run across the scars she’d seen on the farm after his unfortunate time at Andrea’s marksmanship. He couldn’t break her heart anymore than he already had in the last hour, but Beth felt her own knees give out. She made him uncomfortable with it, but she couldn’t find her sense of caring.

She all but fell into his lap and it was a little satisfying to hear his startled in take of breath this time, but Beth didn’t linger on it. Instead she settled her knees on either side of his and the asphalt was painful to the shaking she didn’t know she’d been doing. Her arms wrapped around his neck without warning as she pressed herself as close as she could get to him. If he wanted to push her away, he was going to have to drop her on her ass. She was stifling a sob into the side of his neck before she realized she’d moved at all. His crossbow threatened to cut into her forearms, but Beth simply tightened her arms around what she could of Daryl. She was shaking even harder when his hands awkwardly patted both of her shoulders. A hiccup accompanied her sudden tears at the stupidity of such an action.

Really? She wanted to surround herself in his smell and his arms. She wanted to latch onto him with every thing she had and he just couldn’t seem to understand she cared? She made out with him for peats sake and he couldn’t understand that she wanted to hold him? It was tragically funny where she knew it shouldn’t be since he was in so much pain, but Beth simply continued to hide her face into the side of his neck. She should tell him she loved him… but even as the thought occurred to her, she dismissed it with a rolling stomach ache. He wasn’t ready for that. Hell, she wasn’t ready for that. Right now, was definitely not the time for that. Instead she would content herself with holding onto him. He was home. He was here. Screw the rest of the world.

When she didn’t retreat at his gentle patting, Beth found her breath hitching again as his arms more firmly encased her waist. But it was when his hand moved to cradle the back of her head that she managed to stop crying. She had to be choking him with the strain in her arms, but he didn’t say anything. She couldn’t stop herself from kissing the side of his neck then as the tears left her eyes itching. Beth didn’t realize she’d stop shaking then until she felt his shudder. 

She was trailing a soft line of kisses across the heated skin beneath her before she could stop herself. She wanted so much just to wipe it all away. His breathing turned ragged again as she punctuated each soft glance of her lips. But it was the door opening again that stilled her. That, and the bruising force of the arms he had just put around her to whoever was going to join them. Her face still hidden in his neck she wasn’t sure if he felt the wince her fathers voice conjured or not.

“Son?” He was asking, and the gentleness of her father’s question had her jerking her head from its hiding spot to openly stare at the man. Leaning down was hard for him with his leg, but he’d done so to put his hand on the small part of Daryl’s shoulder that wasn’t swallowed by Beth’s own arm.

What the hell happened?! She was sitting in Daryl’s lap and her father wasn’t sparing her even a glance?! But if the pale expression of her father was anything to go by, maybe she didn’t want to know after all. If neither of them was going to get a lecture about Beth being in Daryl’s lap in the middle of the courtyard this was…there didn’t seem to be a word for how bad this had to be. 

“I…I got him, Daddy.” She found herself answering the concerned question in her father’s gaze, even it if was fixated on Daryl. Her voice broke and she shifted awkwardly back onto her heels but, at least neither of them laughed at the color of her face. When Daryl’s arms didn’t attempt to hold onto her, she was a bit disappointed, but she covered it by wiping at the tear stains no doubt on full display.  
“I think…maybe we oughta get ya inside. Hmm? Might rain.” Herschel tried to chuckle but it came out as more of a wince. Whether from what he’d seen or knew about what happened to Daryl she wasn’t sure, but Beth found her feet. She was reaching down to help Daryl up, but to her irritation he jerked away from her as if burnt. She tried not to let that hurt as much as it did, but Daryl seemed to shrink under her father’s squeeze of his shoulder. He rose to his feet as well, helping her father into a more stable balance before she could make out the blank stare of his starting to return. 

“It’s alright, Son.” He coaxed as she had seen him do to a frightened mare once and Beth blanched. No, this was bad. Whatever Rick had divulged was bad. And it just occurred to her that the rest of the world existed once more. 

“Ain’t.” Daryl spat, shaking his head, but he didn’t shake off the hand to his shoulder. She made sure it wasn’t a tight grip before letting them lead her back inside. Wiping quickly once again at her cheeks, she tried to keep her eyes forward, but found them trailing the hand on Daryl’s shoulder. 

“Beth, why don’t you get Daryl here some soup?” Hershel nodded as the three crossed into the somber dinning hall. 

“Okay.” She whispered, not sure why she was doing so before her feet moved without her permission. Carl was bent over his father, pushing a bowl of soup in front of him as Judith bounced on his knee. But Maggie, Glen, and Sasha were deadly pale. Ducking into the kitchen, Beth couldn’t find herself meeting Carol’s eyes. 

“Did he say anything?” The older woman jumped immediately to ask and Beth realized then she hadn’t even asked him. She should have asked, but…the pain in his eyes was going to haunt her. Shaking her head at Carol she reached for a bowl to do as she was bid.

“What happened?” She whispered, still not sure why she couldn’t find more sound to fill her voice. Her question was met with the same pale stare that colored the rest of their family, but Beth gave the silence a moment. Her hands stilled on the counter, fidgeting with the clean but empty bowl as she realized someone had carried the soup pot inside. Carol seemed pained by her question, but Beth envied the way she seemed to steel herself. Her shoulders straightening, it was Beth that shrunk back.

“Don’t let him pull back. He’s been trying so hard.” 

“What happened?” Beth snapped, not acknowledging the woman’s worry. He was trying to what?!

“They were part of a larger group…call themselves Terminus…they’re cannibals…” Carol trailed off on her last words and Beth’s eyes widened. No. No, this world was fucked up, but…that?! Suddenly Rick’s warning about getting everyone inside had Beth lurching for the sink.

“They saw it.” Carol continued even as Beth felt her stomach give way to a sudden and terrible urge to be sick. Opening her mouth to release the bile that accompanied such knowledge, Beth was grateful Carol managed to hold her hair in time. She found her mouth opening in abject horror as the contents of her stomach burned their way up her throat. 

“Breathe.” Carol coaxed, but Beth found all she could do was shake from the force of her traitorous stomach. 

“They were goin’ ta…” Beth couldn’t finish the sentence even as Carol handed her a dish towel and blessedly continued to hold her hair. Seems like she hadn’t been the only one to lose her lunch over this knowledge by the way the elder woman simply nodded without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again it gets away from me and gets longer. Promise Beth's finally gonna bring that bowl of soup to Daryl next lol.


	7. Full Circle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to break up this conversation into multiple chapters instead of churn out 10k a chapter.

It took several long deep breaths before Beth could even consider rejoining their family in the dining area. Carol blessedly left her after it was clear Beth had nothing else to lose from her stomach. But she could hear the hushed reassurances the other woman was giving Daryl even from the kitchen as the rest of the world seemed to be absorbed in restless silence.

He saw people…eat each other. Daryl, Rick, and Michonne had been forced to watch such a thing. It was almost to hard to comprehend. She’d been wandering the halls of the prison under the eyes of someone that wanted to make her their dinner. Had they seen Judith?! Another wave of rolling nausea took Beth back to the sink, the empty bowl clattering on the counter, but thankfully she was able to breath through it.

It was no wonder everyone was acting like the world had collapsed again. Patricia’s screams were haunting her ears as she blinked the walker carnage from her memory. Was that going to be their fate even if they were finally safe? Was there no getting out of being reduced to the blood in her veins? It was to horribly similar.

Could she even consider these people to be humans?! It was easier to imagine she’d been in the sights of some indistinguishable monster than such vileness. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine a fairy tale villain; maybe the red eyes of the wolf from little red riding hood peering at her from the darkened trees. Or she could recall the image of the Governor from her nightmares, even if she doubted, he compared to this. Hell, a horde of walkers was so much easier to imagine spilling from the forest’s edges around their safe haven. But people…but cannibals?!

Splashing a bit of water on her face, Beth tried to control the shaking in her knees. A person…a person was going to rip her and everyone else she loved, apart. A live, warm blooded, heart beating person. A human being. How in the world did this happen? How did someone look at another human being and think they looked like dinner? They had been starving on the road before the prison and it had never so much as crossed her mind that could happen.

What sort of evil did a person have to be to even consider eating someone else?! How did a person turn into a walker without dying?

Grabbing the cold stainless steel beneath her sweating palms, Beth tried to steady her breathing. In…and out…In…and out. Daryl probably didn’t even know he had taught her that. He was what she needed to focus on. He was home. He needed…Daryl needed whatever she could give him, no matter how small the comfort. He saw the worst horror she could imagine.

She just needed to remind herself he wanted her comfort. He needed comfort and he wouldn’t ask for it. She knew that. No one should go through something like this alone. He said yes, she was sure now, and if she couldn’t pull herself together and support him did, she deserve that answer? She wanted a relationship. She wanted to be his partner, not just meet him in the guard tower. She wanted to deserve to be next to him. She wanted to be as strong as him. No matter the absolute horror he’d brought back with him, he was home. He hadn’t been eaten. He hadn’t been bitten. And if she could get the shaking in her knees to stop, she could convince herself he hadn’t been broken…at least not permanently.

No, Daryl…all of the them…were stronger than this. She could pull herself together. He needed her to pull herself together, even if he didn’t know it. Even if he was going to flinch under her touch or her caring, or her love. Carol was right; she couldn’t let him pull away. He would pull away with this. He’d be too worried about putting them in danger or what he would probably call distractions. He’d steel himself against the hurt that came with caring about people. She’d seen it herself in the previous years. But Daryl needed his family to be okay. He needed her to be okay. Maybe later she’d feel bad for assuming what Daryl needed, but right now she found herself latching onto how she could help. She had to pull herself together…She just needed to think of them like walkers. That was all.

Talking…breathing…walkers…

Beth felt the color drain from her face as she scrunched her eyes against the revulsion swirling in her soul. Judith was fine. She was safe in her brother’s arms in the room right behind her. Daryl and Rick were sitting in the dining room. Maggie and her father were right next to them. Glen, Sasha, and Tyreese were still here. Her heart skipped a beat when she tried to reassure herself that Michonne was safe as well, but Beth managed to clack her knees together painfully. No, her family was here and they were safe as they could get.

The outside world was going to find them eventually. She needed to remind herself of that. They were just smarter walkers. That was all. These were not people. No, this took away that privilege. Anyone associated with, what had Carol called it…Terminus…were walkers. Walkers she could handle. She’d had years to wrap her mind around the very idea of walkers. She’d put down walkers.

Setting her shoulders in determination, Beth let the word walker float through her mind on a continuous loop until she found her eyes opening. Her first breath was shallow but she prided herself a bit that she had stopped shaking and had nothing to add down the sink drain. Walkers. They were just walkers.

Feeling a bit better, but still nauseous, Beth took several deep breaths as she recalled the calmness of Daryl’s warmth. Recalling the strength in his hold outside was more comforting than anything else. Absently she pulled her sleeve up to see if he had left a bruise but it seemed he hadn’t. It was a bit surprising, but Beth shook her head. Even unconsciously he’d never hurt her. He survived. They would be okay. They’d…fight…but their family was going to be okay.

She had to believe that as she jerked her sleeve back down her arm angrily. Just as she had held onto the hope that he’d come home. She’d held that small sliver of hope for them and she’d been right. She could do this. Maybe it was naïve. Maybe it would make it all hurt more. Maybe it was stupid, but Beth latched onto the vein of hope deep in her heart as tightly as she dared.

No, she had been doubting to long. The world had shifted again, but this time she wasn’t going to doubt herself. She could put down walkers. No, she’d taken that shot at Tommy to protect Judith and herself; she would do it again. She didn’t have the luxury of her doubts anymore. They were walkers. They were just smarter walkers. Daryl had told her she had to have a reason to pull the trigger and even as her stomach rolled at the thought; she had one now.

If anyone so much as tried to…consume…her family she wasn’t going to sit by and let this happen. She wasn’t a child anymore. She doubted she’d been a child since Patricia was devoured underneath her hands. What kind of fate did Judith have now? Was she going to be forced to witness the deaths of her sister? Or her father? No one was going to hurt her family. She would forever worry about letting them down. About her place in the world, but as the memory of splitting bark played in her ears, Beth found all doubts about shooting someone leaving her.

She snaped the pistol from her waistband before she knew what she was doing. Looking down the silver barrel into the sink, Beth made sure she was loaded as Shane had taught her before putting the gun away. Her hands ran down the sheath at her hip compulsively before she turned her thoughts once more to nothing but getting her breathing under control. Daryl trusted her to use his knife.

Walkers. They were walkers. Nothing more. That thought let Beth settle her stomach enough to rinse the foul taste from her lips. A heavy sigh left her as she sagged in the effort, but Beth wiped her palms on the still chilled outside of her jean clad thighs. She rubbed her hands a few more times than necessary before letting herself look around, but the motion centered her.

Walkers. They were just walkers. Her family needed her right now. Daryl needed her right now. Everything else could wait. She wasn’t nauseous anymore, but as her eyes landed on the tall metal of the soup, she’d been obsessively stirring this afternoon, she wondered if Daryl and Rick still were. If she’d seen it…

Shaking her head Beth filled the empty bowl once more in her hands and looked around for a clean spoon. No, if she’d been forced to see that she wouldn’t be able to eat ever again. Just the thought of food after the knowledge was enough to turn her nose up at dinner. Maybe that was what had Daryl collapsing? Maybe he hadn’t eaten since he’d seen it. How long could a person go without eating? She’d heard someone say something about three weeks once, but surely, he’d eaten at least once since he’d left. But what if he’d still had the taste of her lips on his when he last ate?

Her feet were carrying her back into the dining room with the pumpkin soup before a small measure of color returned to her cheeks. Greedily she looked for her family. Rick was staring at the bowl in front of him like it would shoot him, even as Carl still continued to urge him to eat. She found a sympathetic and encouraging smile for the young Grimes as their eyes meet briefly. The young boy had probably come to the same conclusion she had. It seemed they’d been right to think the two had not eaten if the glare Rick subjected the bowl to was anything to go by.

Glen, Sasha, and Maggie seemed to have gone. Where she didn’t know, but she assumed they’d gone to check the rest of the prison. There didn’t seem to be much else anyone could do, even if it worried her to think of her sister outside their cell block. Putting a lock of hair that had fallen astray behind her ear, Beth tried to will away the phantom of walker moans that followed her thoughts. They were prepared for an attack at all times since the Governor. Rick, Michonne, and Daryl had brought back an entire arsenal in the last months. They had a strict guard schedule. They were protected inside the fence. At least from walkers.

“You’r kids need you to eat, Rick. They need you.” Herschel tried to coax from Rick’s right side, interrupting a heart-warming giggle from the youngest Grimes still being bounced up and down. But it was the gentle way Carol was running her hand over Daryl’s that caught her attention away from worrying. His shoulders were still sagged as he sat on the concrete bench of a seat. She’d grown so used to seeing him sitting in this room that the weeks of his absence hit her a bit out of nowhere. She was scanning him for injuries again before she throw a shaky but reassuring smile to her father’s worried gaze. No, he was home. Even if he was hunched over the table, and he hadn’t removed his crossbow. Even if he was as still as a statue under Carol’s gentle concern.

The other woman’s wary gaze found her as she paced to the pair, but Beth frowned when Daryl didn’t so much as twitch about being approached from behind. His clenched fist let her know he probably sensed her there but Beth couldn’t take her gaze off the back of his head. She’d smudged the dirt clinging to his neck earlier, but nothing else reassured her that she’d actually gotten to hold him. There was nothing about him that said he was okay.

No. No he was stronger than this. Whoever these Terminus people were they didn’t get to do this to him! How dare they? This was Daryl Dixon they were messing with. Hadn’t he been through enough?! The man put down his brother. The only person in the world he’d cared for before the world collapsed. He had searched for Sophia morning, noon, and night to only find her dead. He’d had to put down his friends like Dale, torture people and go to literal war with the Governor. And he still wasn’t scared of anything, so long as it meant they were safe. Who did these people think they were?! How dare they torment him like this!

Anger shuffled her forward then. Anger at everyone and thing in the world. Why couldn’t the world stop hurting Daryl? Why was it always him that had to see these things? Why did it have to be him? He deserved so much more than just the horrors of this world and yet it seemed to be the only thing it gave him. He couldn’t even ask for comfort because someone beat it out of him. He couldn’t look her in the eyes…

She was pushing his left shoulder out of her way before his eyes finally found her again. Maybe he misjudged the heat in her stare when he flinched under her hand, but Beth didn’t care anymore. She placed the bowl of soup down at her hip as she settled herself directly on top of the table in front of him before he seemed to realize what she’d done. She watched his eyes dart down to the direction of Rick and her father, but they didn’t linger as she planted each one of her feet against the outside of his thighs. Shoving her boots into the mud stained denim, Beth boxed him in. Ignoring the widening of Carol’s eyes, she shoved her knees together violently before bringing the bowl to her lap. The distinct clap of her bones snapping together made Daryl flinch, but to her relief he didn’t attempt to flee.

But she was reaching for him when he seemed to finally realize where he was. Or where she was for that matter. The grinding of his teeth was audible as he jerked his cheek out from under her right hand. The sheer violence of the action had Beth gripping the bowl in her lap tighter, ignoring when it spilled a bit on her clothes. He was in danger of falling backward off his seat, but Beth dug the sides of her feet into his legs without thought. Her only goal was to keep him right there. He was home. He was alive, and he was going to eat if it was the last thing she did. He collapsed in her arms; he did not get to pull away even if she knew why he wanted to now.

Her father was on the other side of the room. Carol was right next to them. Rick was being coaxed by his kids not three feet away. It was one thing to run her hand over his shoulder in front of them. It was another matter entirely to hold him. She knew that, but where she’d been so worried, she just couldn’t do it now. Afterall, could Daryl really be worried about anyone’s reaction after her father had found them outside as they had been? She was in his lap! And she’d give anything just to be back in his arms again right that minute. But Daryl hadn’t eaten in however long, and this close to him she could make out the dark circles under his eyes she hadn’t wanted to see earlier. She wasn’t going to let him pull away. Maybe Carol hadn’t meant it so literal, but Beth took a deep breath against the pain of rejection before reaching out again as she would a wounded animal.

He jerked away once more, dodging her hand as if it meant to slap him. Despite herself, Beth bit her lip against the sharp stab of humiliated rejection. It hurt to see him like this. Maybe the obvious stab lingered on her face a moment longer than she meant to show before she slowly shifted a bit closer. Daryl let out an exasperated huff, though to her relief he centered himself more steadily in his seat and didn’t curse her. But mounting her courage, Beth slowly reached out again, expecting that to change.

“I made this.” She coaxed, managing to shove the pain and anger down at the violent wince that accompanied the gentle glide of her fingertips across his forehead. Taking a deep breath against his stuttered exhale, Beth tried to guide him through it like she’d learned from his calm on more than one occasion. His eyes shut as tightly as she figured they could against her touch, but she considered it a victory when she swept his bangs to the side and he didn’t pull back harshly again. Maybe he wasn’t dodging because it hurt her. Maybe he finally realized she wasn’t going to hurt him. Maybe he was just to tried to keep fighting, Beth didn’t care.

Everything in her wanted to shove off the table beneath her and into his lap once more, but she settled for gently running her fingers down his cheek. Cupping his jaw, she ran her thumb over the scruff of his beard and along the sharp edges of his bones in silence. She’d give him a minute to adjust to her caring. She knew she had to, but Beth found Carol’s gaze to her left in a wince of her own. The older woman reached out without hesitation to rub the forearm of her death gripped hand that was still in her lap to Beth’s gratitude. They were both hurting for him.

There was no judgement in Carol’s eyes as she thought there might have been. After all, the woman had teased Beth about her crush on Daryl for quite a while. Instead all Beth saw was a deep understanding and the same pain she felt reflected back at her. There was a comfort in knowing she wasn’t the only one that loved Daryl Dixon, or was so heart broken to see him this way.

“I made this.” Beth tried again, turning her eyes away from their shared pain. When he shook his head but didn’t open his eyes or pull away from her absentminded caress, she sighed. One step forward. She just had to calmly and slowly ease him to her. She could do that for him. She could be patient, even if she just wanted to collapse alongside him.

“You told me once…” She started, barely above a whisper as she shifted a bit uncomfortable that she was going to say something like this out loud.

“…That I was…good…” She pushed forward slowly pronouncing every word, emboldened when his eyes finally snapped open to latch onto her own even if she found herself biting her lip again. _Everything good in the world_. They were his own words, but to say them herself felt a bit…self-serving. She couldn’t help the tiny blush that crept up her cheeks as she flicked her eyes to Carol’s direction before back to his intent gaze. Somethings didn’t need to be repeated in front of their family, but she had a point to make.

“You said I was good. So, trust me. I made this.” She pushed herself forward despite the deepening color of her cheeks. She was proud of herself for not ducking away from the intensity of their locked eyes again as she let a moment of silence surround them. He was searching her face for something she wasn’t sure he was going to find, but she tried to lock as much of her own pain away.

Instead she found her head tilting to the right as a sad smile flickered for him a brief moment when he remained still. She loved him so much. Moving to pull the spoon from the bowl in her lap displaced Carol’s hand on her arm, but Beth made herself continue their staring match. Trying to scream at him how much she loved him and cared for him without opening her lips to embarrass them both she settled for his attention. Raising it to her lips she watched as his eyes followed the motion. She unconsciously was hit with a flash of heat as the guard tower flickered to life between them, but she did not acknowledge the phantom of his kiss even if she absently grazed her thumb across the corner of his lips.

Instead she focused on her task. She had to get him to eat. He needed his strength. They were all going to need his strength. But most importantly she needed him to do this. She needed him here. Where he was safe and she could see him and touch him. Where she could know he was okay. Being okay, meant eating.

As if she’d broadcast herself, Beth watched Daryl swallow painfully with her as she opened her mouth and swallowed the single spoonful. She made sure to take a deep breath as he watched her take another bite. Slowly, every action slow as she could make it, she hoped she was getting her point across. This wasn’t…well was there a polite way to tell him she hadn’t handed him a bowl of people parts? Because she imagined that was what all food looked like to him now. She couldn’t think of any other way to tell him it was safe here. That this bowl of soup in her hands wasn’t poison and there was no reason not to eat it now that he was home.

“I grew this….I pick’d it. I washed it. I cu’t it and I cooked it. I made this Daryl. I did. You have to eat.” She all but begged when he scrunched his nose in what she assumed was disgust at the very idea.

“Please.” She tried again, her voice breaking even though she made a concentrated effort to steel her shoulders against his rejection. Continuing to rub her thumb over his jaw, Beth watched as several things flittered across his face. Pain, impatience, disgust, anger, calm, and finally resigned acceptance. Taking a chance, Beth raised her next spoonful to his clenched teeth. She worried a brief second, he might be offended, but when he opened his lips with a gruff growl of impatience, she feed him anyway.

The violence of his jerk nearly unbalanced Beth once again but she slid the bowl back onto the table toward Carol as Daryl’s jaw ground together. His fists pounded the table on either side of her as his eyes clenched shut in obvious nausea. When his breathing began to come in heavy spurts through his nose, Beth feared he was going to throw up. She wouldn’t blame him if he did, but she surged forward. Carol did the same, running her hand up and down his back. But all thought left Beth as she grabbed both sides of his face and launched her lips to his. 

Her kiss was chaste and forceful as her eyes watched his tighten and refuse to open. His breathing was still harsh as she felt more than saw his shoulders start to heave, but Beth held on. Tightening her grip to pull at a few strands of his hair caught between them, she pushed as far off the table as she could go without ending up in his lap.

When his hand came up to push at her shoulder weakly, she refused to move, instead jerking his head in her hands for his effort. He had to swallow this one bite. She was so sure if she could get him through this, he’d be okay. Just this one bite and they’d manage the rest. It was only a half second after that his fingers instead curled around her shoulder and held on through his next four unstable breaths. Calm. She just needed to make him calm. He could do this. She knew he could do this.

Beth resumed running her thumbs over the skin she could reach. She tried to level out her breathing for him as Carol grabbed his unoccupied fist. A hum began in the depths of her chest against her will, as if she meant to sing to him if she pulled her lips from the chapped and wind torn edges of his own. As if he was Judith. Whether she and Carol finally made it through the fog of his gut reaction, or he came back to himself, the muscles under her gaze began to relax. She wanted to praise him for it, but didn’t dare take her lips from his yet. Not until she was dead certain he wasn’t going to be sick. In fact, Beth found herself holding him as tightly as she had earlier even as his eyes finally opened.

“Ge’ off, Greene. Ain’t gonna hurl. ‘Less you’ keep that shit up.” Daryl huffed as he finally managed to jerk some space between them a minute or so later. And despite knowing he might actually still hurl; the sheepish shake of his head made her laugh. It wasn’t appropriate in any way, but she couldn’t stop the relieved chuckle from piercing the silence.

A joke. He made a joke. No one would know it was a joke, except her. He certainly wasn’t going to hurl in the guard tower. Which was perhaps the funniest part about it. A louder and gut-wrenching laugh bubbled out of her as he rolled his eyes for her benefit. He would be okay. Reaching forward, Beth braced herself on his shoulders as a tear rolled down her left cheek in time with her uncontrollable laughter. The tension in the room snapped under her laugh. A thousand pounds removed themselves from her chest as Beth watched the tiny tick of Daryl’s lips, even if his eyes were scanning the room occupants uneasily.

“So, we’re all going crazy now? Okay.” Glen’s voice jerked Beth’s watery relief toward the opening door. When Maggie and Sasha followed him in, Beth made an effort to stop laughing, but didn’t manage it right away. And even as she did, a true smile remained in its place.

“Daryl, cracked a joke.” Rick’s gravely sigh finally tore her attention away from the man in question. It seemed either her father or Carl had gotten him to take a few bites of his own as he managed an affectionate smile for her. It seemed to mirror her fathers, but Beth found herself blushing worse than she thought herself able. She really needed to talk to Daryl about this whole, world disappearing in his presence, thing. At least Maggie hadn’t just seen her kiss him…yet.

“Glad you’r’ back. Need to talk ‘bout some stuff. They want a truce. They gave us the Governor as a peace offering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it Rick! Lol Because of course just seeing people get eaten isn't enough to gut punch Daryl. Let's throw in the Gov...but he finally got his soup!


End file.
